


Always on the Outside

by defessissima



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), Backstory, Before the academy, Canon Compliant, Claude learning about his family, Claude learning how to be a noble, Claude tries to figure out whats worse assassination attempts or Lorenz, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Claude's backstory, Crests (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Cultural Differences, Culture Shock, Fighting, Fodlan, Gen, Had to make OC's to Fill out the cast in Pt.1, I wanted more backstory for Claude, Intrigue, Introspection, Leicester Alliance, Light Angst, Mentions of Blood, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poison, Political Intrigue, Pre-Canon, Racism, Spoilers, Xenophobia, it really is Fodlan in a nutshell, no beta we die like Glenn, one day i will figure out how to tag things, spoilers for claude's backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-07 18:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defessissima/pseuds/defessissima
Summary: Before Claude knew about his crest and relics, he only knew survival. Now his skills of scheming are being put to the test as tries to thwart an assassination plot. While fighting for his life, he discovers something about himself and must make a difficult choice.Should he stay and handle the unrest at home, or leaving it all behind for a new nation?A deep dive into Claude's life starting a year before he was named Heir to Duke Riegan and House leader of the Golden Deer all the way to his first days at the Officers Academy.The attempts on his life, the schemes he cooked up, and the promises he was forced to keep on both sides of the border.Part 1: The Eastern MenaceChapter 1: The Demon QueenChapter 2: Extravagant FatherChapter 3 Green Eyes Red BloodChapter 4: A Dangerous HobbyChapter 5: Do You Ever Miss HomeChapter 6: When World's Collide pt.1Chapter 7: When World's Collide pt. 2Pt: 2 Finding FodlanChapter 8: Grasping the Throat tba





	1. The Demon Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Claude's back story ahead!  
I really wanted the game to go deeper into Claude's backstory and what kind of environment made him who he is  
I took context clues from all of his support conversations and interactions to try and fill in the blanks.This story will start off with his life with his parents then quickly heads into making his way to the Alliance and adjusting to his new life.  
This idea has been stuck in my head for weeks and I've finally decided to publish it.  
Enjoy!

The warm sun beamed down with intense midday heat. The warmth spread across the field as tall sunflowers turned towards the light, providing shade to the ground below. A perfect place for a nap. Claude relaxed on the cool soil. The dappled sunlight scattered across his face. The stables were cleaned, the dishes are done, and no one had figured out his latest plot.

“Where is that brat!” He might have spoken too soon. Not far off he heard heavy footsteps rustling through the fields. He kept quiet not wanting to give away his position. “That green-eyed demon! When I get my hands on him I swear I’m going to rip his puny little limbs off!”

His nose wrinkled at the nickname. Quietly and reluctantly he rose and hid behind the tallest flowers. He grabbed one by the stem and pulled back on it hard. It wasn’t long until he heard the footsteps and grumbling voice get just close enough. He let go of the stem and it shot forward. Seeds and yellow petals scattered as it hit the face of his pursuer. He pushed aside the innocent blooms and bolted. Taking off in a dead sprint he snapped up a stick from the ground. It wasn’t as good as a sword but it was better than nothing. He really needs to remember to arm himself before napping.

Steadily the burly mass started gaining on him. “Fight me you coward!” The gravelly voice echoed. He stole a glance over his shoulder and groaned. He stopped in his tracks, close enough to the city now that surely, he could still run for backup if he tried.

“What is it this time Byron? I was just getting comfortable.” He tried to project as much confidence into his voice as possible. The better choice would have been to keep running. Byron was at least a head taller than him and about twice the muscle mass. Still, he was simple enough that Claude had a chance of talking him down. That didn’t mean it wasn’t intimidating, like staring a wild boar in the face.

The tall youth lumbered over him with brown eyes filled with fury. “Don’t play dumb with me Claude! I know that you were the one who told Leann that I was cheating on her. Now she won’t even talk to me!”

Ok, _that_ wasn’t his doing. He was responsible for many of the things that happened to Byron, but this was not one of those times. “And why would I do that? I hate to break it to you bud, but I don’t care enough about you or Leann to interfere in whatever it is you two got going on.”

“It had to be you, you meddling prick! You’ve got dirt on everyone in town I just know it!” Byron pulled out a knife and raised it above his head about to strike. Claude wasted no time using his makeshift weapon to knock the knife out of Byron’s hand. After a moment of shock, Byron grabbed the stick and ripped it out of Claude’s grip, slamming it right into the side of his ribs. He heard something snap and could only hope it was the piece of wood. Byron flipped the branch to its sharper edge and pulled pack to stab him. Claude reached out to try and block but before he could, a rock hit Byron square in the head knocking him out completely.

“You idiot! What do ya think you’re doing fighting unarmed?” Claude tried to turn around, but his ribs ached something fierce. A short boy with a mop of black curls came bounding towards him, his sand-colored eyes filled with concern.

“Darius! What perfect timing! I was taking a nap in a field, minding my own business, when our friend here,” He gestured, kicking the unconscious mass. “Decided it was time for a chat.”

Darius looked him up and down checking for damage. “There’s always someone after ya. Honestly, I don’t know why you aren’t armed at all times.”

“You got a point; everyone wants a piece of me.” He threw his old friend a smile and a wink he knew wouldn't win him over.

Darius wasn’t amused in the slightest. “You’re lucky I was in the area. Otherwise, you’d be skewered,” he eyed him suspiciously. “Why are ya holding your side like that?”

Claude tried to cover his wince with a smile. “Just a slight bruise.”

“At least your parents will be happy you won this time,” Darius offered his arm to Claude. “Can you walk?”

Claude winced before taking his arm. “I wouldn’t call that a win. All I did was throw a flower in his face and run.”

“That sounds like a really bad love confession. Not that I expected any less of you _green-eyed demon_.”

Even though it was just a joke, Claude couldn’t help but frustrated. “Cut it out. I’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant being called a demon.”

Darius shrugged as they made their way out of the field onto the main path. “Byron would disagree.”

“Byron deserves it! I only retaliate, not instigate.”

“Like the time you glued his sword to its scabbard.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t take care of his things.”

“Then you challenged him to a fight in the square and made him look like an idiot."

“The week before he punched me in the face in that very same square. Getting back at him was just…poetic justice.” The flowers were growing sparser as they got closer to the capital.

“I kinda like the nickname.” Darius nudged Claude playfully. “It makes you sound like some legendary creature. Maybe that’s why people keep coming after you so that they can claim that they came out victorious against the green-eyed demon!”

“You’re a real comfort you know that? I don’t want to think about people wanting to mount my head on their walls.”

“I’m sure your parents would have your head before anyone else could. Your father didn’t seem too pleased when he sent me to find you. He said something about you not talking your combat training seriously enough?”

The city seemed like it rose from the ground it was built on. A desert oasis surrounded by fertile fields that seemed to go on forever. The sand-colored buildings matched the dust of the streets as they walked through. They bantered back and forth as they passed under the shade of colorful awnings. The various merchant stalls and apothecaries hawking their wares, shouting into the din of the hot summer day. The pair stopped by their favorite shop to pick up painkillers so that Claude could walk the rest of the way without making a fool of himself. Darius promised not to mention the stint with Byron, neither of them wanting to get into more trouble than they already were.

As they started getting closer to home, Claude knew he wasn’t going to make it through the day without a scolding. He mentally started placing bets on who was going to get to him first, his parents, or his instructor.

Other than the senate-house in the center of the capital, none of the buildings were made to stand out. Not even his parents’ house, which stood a modest two stories high. Aside from the training grounds and stables behind the front gate, it looked identical to its neighbors. The gate wasn’t a problem to sneak past, it was the training grounds that Claude and Darius really had to try not to catch the attention of-

“There you are you little delinquent! Your mother and I were just talking about you!” Nader, respected general and Claude’s combat instructor, stood up from the step where he and Claude’s mother were sitting down sharing a pot of tea.

Both of them at the same time. Today the gods were out to get him.

His mother waved them over. “We were just discussing the progress you’ve made and how I was going to be watching you today.”

His mother sat cross-legged on the limestone steps. Her thick hair tied up in inter-locking braids and fastened with gold marking her status. Truly the only thing he inherited from her was his colorful eyes. Across from her Nader’s large presence dwarfed her. His scared face and rugged beard spoke of his experience in war. He looked ridiculous trying to drink from the small teacups.

She took another swing from her cup. “You’re both late, were you bailing him out of trouble again Darius?”

“As always, Lady Amelda.” Darius smiled at Claude’s expense.

“I can get out of trouble just fine by myself, thanks.” Claude feigned a hurt expression. “I’m not that hopeless.”

“That has yet to be determined. Time to arm up!” Nader tossed a lance at him. His least favorite weapon.

He threw one to Darius as well. “You too. If you’re here, you might as well train. None can afford to be weak.”

Darius mumbled something along the lines of “Thanks a lot Claude.” Which made him smile at their mutual suffering. They took their stances at opposite ends of the training ground and readied themselves to spar.

Darius was much more comfortable with a lance than he was. It was like trying to stab a fish in a river. Every time Darius attacked Claude had no choice but to doge. What seemed like hours passed. Each match ended with the sharp part of a lance pointed at his neck. He spent more time skillfully leaping out of the way and blocking when he could. He thought he saw an opening and thrust forward. Darius knocked the lance out of his hands with such force that it flew out of his hands and buried itself into the ground. 

With a frown on his face, Nader raised a hand to stop them. He walked over to Claude. “You need to stop dancing and actually fight.”

He stole a glance at his mother whose gaze was contemplative but gave no sympathy.

The general snapped his fingers at him to get his attention. “Claude! You need to take this head-on. Stop looking for ways to avoid the issue right in front of you.” His voice sounded gravelly and deep with frustration. “I want you to stand here. Don’t move. Darius is going to run at you full force and all I want you to do is not move, try to get him before he gets you.”

Nader took the lance out of the ground and handed it back to Claude. “Remember there are no other solutions. Just head-on.”

Darius gave him a sorry look before fully charging at him. He knew he had to stand his ground that’s what a good warrior would do. But he also didn’t want to die. Different ideas started to play out in his head and he tried his best to press them down. He held his lance point aimed and Darius's throat. Then he saw it clear as day. An idea he couldn’t keep down. Darius always slowed down and put all his weight on one foot before thrusting. At that moment he would be off-balance! At the last second, he feigned left to dodge and buried his lance in the ground. Useing the lance as an anchor, he spun around and with his full weight kicked Darius square in the chest knocking him to the ground.“Finally!” He yelled. He wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve and smiled. He looked up at his mother who smiled back at him. 

Nader looked far less pleased. “I told you to stand your ground!”

Claude, with mouth a gape pointed to Darius who was still on the ground. “But I won! It shouldn’t matter how!”

The general crossed his arms over his chest. “Your version of winning leaves you without a weapon for the next enemy. You would be dead just as good as if you lost the first time. “

Claude smirked. “So you admit I won.”

“You little--“

“Let him have this Nader, he did a good job.” His mother had gotten up from her tea and now stood beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a proud squeeze.

“He didn’t stand his ground!”

“No, but he adapted to the situation and figured out a way that works for him.”

“There isn’t always going to be other options he needs to learn not to run when he can fight.” Nader explained.

Absentmindedly Claude helped Darius to his feet. Both of them brushing off dirt and taking a break. The argument continued loudly in front of them. Claude could see that both parties were getting equally irritated.

“He was fighting and doing a good job! There’s nothing wrong with ---" Amelda yelled.

“This is more than just seeing who wins Amelda this is about building strength of character,” Nader exclaimed. A look of shock flashed across her face. Not many had the audacity to ever interrupt her. “When he is leading troops on the battlefield those men and women need to know he’s not going to resort to backhanded tactics. They need to have full confidence that he will lead them into glory no matter the odds!”

“Isn’t it the same to have the confidence that they are not being led into a death trap?”

Claude made a move to intervene, but Darius put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back before he could.

“He already has to work twice as hard to gain his people’s trust. You should know that better than anyone Amelda!”

Her emerald eyes narrowed. “What is _that _supposed to mean, Nader?” She hissed.

Nader took a step closer to the queen. He towered over her, but his actions seemed to anger her more. “Even without his sly reputation, He still needs to prove that he is not a coward.”

“My son is many things, but a coward is not one of them!” Claude had rarely ever seen his mother this livid and knew it meant trouble. If Nader wasn’t a renowned war general, he would have been scared for him.

“I know that he isn’t, but others won’t remove him from his heritage. The blood of Fodlan renders him a coward at birth and he needs to train it out of his system.”

It’s something that he’d heard hundreds of times before. It stung a little hearing it from someone he looked up to. He was about to speak up to defend himself, but his mother’s fist flew before he got the chance. The commander’s face seemed to crumple on impact. He could only watch in horror as his loving mother challenged the mighty Nader in hand to hand combat. Nader wiped the blood from his nose and without a second thought he charged her. She seemed to anticipate this when she grabbed his arm and used his own weight against him as she threw him to the ground with an incredible thud. She moved with the force of a sandstorm ripping through Nader’s attempts to gain control of her arms.

Darius looked at him in disbelief, but all Claude could do was smile proudly back at him. It was times like these that he was proud to be her son. That was his mom alright. His mom the Demon Queen.

Nader landed a solid left hook to his mom’s face. She spit out blood and grabbed his arm with both of her hands and used her weight to pull the much larger man back on his feet only to twist his massive arm behind his back.

“How’s this for cowardice!” She spat. She sent a swift kick to the back of the large man’s legs bringing him down to his knees. He tried to fling her off of him but it was hopeless.

The novelty was wearing off and the situation was becoming less entertaining and more horrifying by the second. Amelda moved with impossible speed as she managed to grab his fist before it made contact with her. She pulled back for a punch and Nader managed to catch her fist. Looking her opponent dead in the eyes she kicked up and landed a solid blow to his gut. She laced an arm around his neck and pulled.

“Mom! I think he’s had enough!” He called out. She didn’t let go. He walked over to his fuming mother and cautiously tried to push her off the poor man before he turned blue. “I think you’ve proven your point.”

The flames extinguished in her forest eyes mellowing down to a grassy green. “Oh Claude, I am so sorry.” she pulled him into a hug disregarding his bleeding instructor entirely.

Hesitantly he hugged her back. He knew what she meant, but it wasn’t her fault. People saw them both as different. She lashed out, trying to fight back. Just like he did. “I don’t think I’m the one you need to apologize to.” He nodded towards Nader who was using his tunic to clean away the blood and dust from his face. She glanced over at the man with a look of annoyance. “You’re right dear.” She said pulling away from him. “Darius, I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

Darius looked shocked and frightened to be the new focus of her attention. “It’s fine my Lady.” He stammered out.

It was a long shot that she would ever apologize to Nader. Unlike him, his mother was as stubborn as they come. Amelda went to go pick her tea set off the steps where she left it. Not even sparing a glance to the man she just bested as she walked past. “I was going to talk to your father about the senate meeting tonight. You boys clean up and make sure to do the weapon maintenance. Darius you’re invited to stay for the banquet after the meeting.” She whipped some stray blood off on her pants nonchalantly as she left.

Darius turned to him in shock and disbelief. “I know I joke about it a lot. But I’ve never been more scared of your family until right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter 2: Extravagant Father  
The senate makes plans of their own
> 
> I updated the chapter titles so that they fit each chapter's theme. 1/23/20  
Comment and Kudos are greatly appreciated


	2. Extravagant Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King makes an announcement and the senate decides to act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this so long I can't tell if it's good anymore.  
There are several things I wanted to expand on from the game. First of all I wanted to focus on Almyra having a more republic style government. This would place a greater importance on charisma and public speaking ability which fits Claude to a T, and it shows the difference between him and other "nobles" at the academy. He may not be able to waltz but be can manipulate and persuade with the best of them.  
I also wanted their to be more of a significance to his braid, so I looked into that and the jewelry he wears to be one of the few status symbols in his culture.

Claude and Darius made quick work of cleaning up the training grounds. All things considered, there really wasn’t much of a mess to attend to seeing that practice was cut short. Darius in one corner was stacking lances, while Claude swept the grounds of debris for it’s next use. Out of the corner of his eye Claude watched Nader who was leaning on a pillar next to the doorway. As Claude worked, he noticed the old man taking his time with the healers kit. He lost. He had no reason to say behind. Normally the loser went home to lick their wounds. Claude of all people would know.

Darius took the silence as an opportunity to talk. “With the Senate meeting tonight I’m sure the kitchens will be hectic. If we’re lucky maybe we can grab some of the good stuff before anyone notices.” Raiding the pantry was something of a tradition between them. While Darius’s mother was alive, they used to go to the meetings together to keep each other entertained. She was a general and would often speak to the senate about her soldiers’ needs. But after she was cut down in battle by Duke Reigan, Darius became withdrawn and stopped attending. The only way that Claude was able to get him out of his room was by bribing him with food.

“I’ll meet you there I got a few things I need to take care of first.”

Darius shrugged and scampered towards the kitchens. When he was out of sight Claude decided it was time to cut the tension that had taken over the training grounds.

“You’ve been standing there awhile, Nader. I assume you want to talk.”

Nader smirked as he took a swig of vulnerary. “Nothing gets past you huh kid.”

“Mom really did a number on you.” he tried.

“I expected as much. As long as I’ve known her Amelda has been nothing if not ferocious.”

“You’ve known her a long time then?” Claude folded his arms across his chest. Not necessarily wanting to help as he watched the general struggle to wrap his bandages with one hand.

A slight smile crept on the old man’s lips. “Since before you were born.”

He sighed in exasperation. “Somehow that makes it worse.”

“What do ya mean kid.”

“You’ve known her for such a long time. That means that you of all people should understand how hard she’s had to work to get respect around here, how hard I have to work too. I already know people see me as different there’s no need to remind me.” Claude tried his best to keep his tone in check, but he couldn’t help the sharp emotions that undercut his words.

“I understand better than most.” Nader muttered.

“Then why did you call me a coward?”

“Because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as me.” Nader’s golden brown eyes bore into his own. For once Claude didn’t have a snappy reply. The general’s gaze softened.

“I used to be just like you. I used to run when I had the chance to fight. I was scared. For myself and for my troops. I didn’t want to lose anyone.”

Claude sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Not wanting to get people killed is hardly a bad trait.”

“It might not be, but makes it hurt more when you finally do lose someone.”

He broke eye contact. Neither of them being able to say anything in that moment. Both lost in thought.

It was Nader who finally spoke “You’re going to have to lead one day and there will come a time where you can’t save everyone. But you need to keep pushing. You need to steel yourself against loss so that you can keep moving on even after tragedy.”

“Nader-“

“You should get going. The Senate will be meeting soon, and your father was looking for you.”

Claude gave the general a curt nod. He wasn’t going to get anything else out of the older man when he decided the conversation was over. He hurried to the kitchens, eager to shake off the heavy atmosphere. He grabbed an apple from Darius and promised to meet him at the banquet before sprinting off towards the senate house.

The meeting chambers were lively as usual. The benches lining the walls slowly filled up as Senators started to fill in and take their normal seats. Most of them continuing conversations as they filed in. The middle of the room was open space for people to give their speeches and make their proposals. Anyone could sit in on the meeting but for the sake of clarity only senators could vote or make decisions. Members of the public normally showed up for the to air their grievances then partake in the banquet held after. Claude meandered his way through the crowded room. He took his seat next to his Father who was in deep conversation with his mother on his opposite side.

“Zashir, is this really the best time? You haven’t even told him yet, how do you think this is going to go over.” Her hand lovingly moved a dark hair from her husband’s face. Her skin looked shockingly light in comparison to his deep tan.

“Amelda love, you worry to much.” His father’s attention shifted as he noticed him sit down. “There ya are son! Are you ready to lead to today’s hearing?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be for three hours of land negotiations.” He joked, sliding into his seat.

“Chin up kid. Today might be more interesting than you think.” Zashir winked. Claude couldn’t help but manage a slight smile at his father’s optimism.

The senate meeting started off as boring as any other. Mainly people wanting to expand landholdings and infrastructure. Every now and then Claude offered up an idea or helped find a solution. At one point he had to jump down from his seat to push apart two people fighting over a land tax. He thought that would be the most exciting part, until an older senator took the podium. Her demeanor was grave and her expression seemed to be a permanent frown.

“Senator Livia. The floor is yours.” The King said.

The room went quiet. Whether it was out of respect or fear, Claude couldn’t tell. The senator cleared her throat. “Your Highness, our western border is still left vulnerable. Since the troops have fallen back, I am concerned with the security of the trade routes you have established. I believe that without proper fortification, the criminals of the Leicester Alliance will take advantage of this weak point. I make a motion that troops be sent to reinforce Fodlan’s Throat to keep us safe.” She finished her statement and many of the other attendees started to discuss the issue among themselves.

“There haven’t been any reports of increased criminal activity since the border has been open.” His mother argued. She was doing a good job of hiding it but he could see the tension in her shoulders.

“We must be proactive Amelda. We cannot simply wait for people to be killed then find a solution.” Senator Livia scowled. “Even then, if an invasion were to occur the time it would take to mobilize troops would be significantly faster if—”

“The western border has been secure for the last few years.” Claude cut in. This was starting to get ridiculous. “House Goneril of the Alliance has been nothing but peaceful as of late. There is no reason for them to invade, or to violate our current treaty.”

“They don’t need a reason!” Livia hissed. “If they do plan on an attack then we would be all but defenseless. We need to think about the future.” She was trying to paint the situation as dire, appealing to peoples fear of another war. Claude had to admit it was a clever tactic. He would have to choose his next words carefully if he didn’t want to come off as uncaring.

“If it looks like we’re gearing up for a war they will more than certainly start one. I don’t think we should risk war with Goneril and the Alliance to satisfy your paranoia.” Claude argued. He was surprised to see some nods of agreement in the crowd. “How can you justify risking countless lives over a nonexistent threat? ”

“Our relation with the Alliance is tenuous at best. We cannot assume that they won’t attack us and take advantage of our weakened defenses! It’s not paranoia it’s realistic concern for the nation.” The senator glared. Her contempt for him was thinly veiled at best. 

“We’re still recovering after our last skirmish at Fodlan’s Locket. Or have you forgotten how many already lost their lives? As it stands, we’re ill-equipped and ill-prepared for another fight. We should do everything we can to avoid conflict with our neighbors while we recover our resources.” He let a casual smile grace his lips. “Why can’t we just enjoy the peace and live to fight another day?”

“But the border-“ Senator Livia sputtered.

“I think we’ve heard enough. Everyone’s talking in circles.” Zashir stopped. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s put it to a vote.” The king stood from his seat. “a show of hands in favour of the motion to send troops to the border?” Livia’s and shot up with determination, and many other followed her. “Those who oppose the motion?” He continued.

Claude wasn’t eligible to vote but he did his best to quickly count the hands in the air. He hoped he managed to persuade enough people. It was a close call. 

“By a majority vote the motion fails.” Zashir announced. People started to shuffle around as they packed up their things. The meeting was long and many were eager to be first in line at the banquet.

“With the conclusion of this meeting. I have a special announcement to make.” Zashir rose to stand in the center of the room. The commotion stopped. Claude sat up a little straighter awaiting the impending theatrics, he had no idea what his father was planning. “There has been pressure on me lately to choose someone to lead our country once I’m gone.”

The crowd erupted into chaos, everyone speculating who the possible successor could be. Claude was shocked. He leaned over to try and get his mother’s attention. “Did you know about this?” he silently mouthed to her. She smiled at him and said nothing in response. As was custom in Almyra, anyone could be named heir to the throne. Unlike what he had heard of the western nations, succession wasn’t determined as something so arbitrary as birth. The sitting regent chose an heir based on their own criteria, knowing his father that could mean anything.

“I thought about it for a long time. I’ve known that I wanted someone strong enough to lead Almyra to prosperity, but also someone who can bring about much needed change. Someone who can lead us to peace between our nation, and our neighbors. Someone who can make us stronger.”

The silence was thick. No one dare make a sound. The anticipation was palpable.

“So I King Zashir, have decided to name my son Claude as my heir!”

All the air was sucked out of the room. Claude felt like the floor had fallen out from under him. He was vaguely aware of the noise around him until a heavy hand clasped his shoulder and brought him back to reality. Zashir took a gold bead from his own hair and braided it into Claude’s.

“This is the beginning of a long life journey. Soon you will earn the rest of your gold.” His father pulled him into a hug. “Congratulations son. ”

The banquet was in full roar. The smell of roasted meats wafted through the air and plates over loaded with vegetables, breads , and cheeses covered the tops of every table in sight. Dim lights mimicked the color of the setting sun and filled the hall with a warm orange glow. Musicians played rowdy drinking songs at the head of the banquet hall and the sounds of clinking glasses and silverware accosted the senses. Claude tried to enjoy it the best he could, but he had barley eaten a single bite. He keep getting interrupted by sea of people wanting to congratulate him or bend his ear. He barely even had time to tell Darius the news before his father whisked him off to do the rounds, introducing him to every table in the hall like a prized ox. The next half hour became a reoccurring nightmare of greetings and small talk. After his hundredth iteration of “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The musicians changed their tune and dancers started to stream in for a performance. The perfect distraction for his escape. He excused himself from an incredibly drunk and handsy judge before quietly making a break for the door. The night was cold and crisp. He welcomed the brisk air and silence as he could finally clear his head. 

Of all the people in Almyra his father chose him. The thought weighted heavy on his mind. He knew it was a possibility that he would inherit the throne but for it to actually happen was astounding. His father talked about how he wanted someone who could change things, but would he even be able to make much of a difference? Panic and self doubt started to cloud his thoughts. He groaned and leaned back on the great marble building letting himself slide down until he hit the ground.

As he gazed up at the sky, Claude thought about what Nader had said. About how he would have to work harder than anyone to gain the peoples trust. Deep down he knew it was true. Even when he was younger other children would pick fights with him relentlessly, and folks in town didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him. The people still respected Nader because he had the opportunities to prove himself time and time again. Would he ever get the chance to prove himself? Even if he had the chance would he take it? Could his people ever accept someone like him? Darius did. Darius was never cruel, and never judged him because of his mother’s blood. If his friend could see him for who he was, then maybe there was still a chance his people would too.

The still atmosphere was shattered by sudden clash.

“Careful someone will hear you!” someone hissed.

“Not my fault I tripped, I can’t see!”

His thoughts evaporated and Claude turned around. He could vaguely make out the shape of two cloaked figures bustling down the road. One of them used a faint fire spell only bright enough to light the path ahead of them.

Something about them seemed off. They seemed to talk with a sense of urgent anticipation, not like the drunken stumbling that normal late night trysts sauntered with. Something in his gut was telling him to follow them, and Claude always followed a hunch. He waited till they were farther off, before he quietly got up. He started after them, watching the dim light so that he could keep them in his sights. The strange pair wove through the streets of the capital. He hid behind barrels and buidings as he tracked them. Eventually he saw the light disappear into a lone tavern on the side of an alley. Now he just had to figure out a way to get in.

Walking in through the front door was too conspicuous. The roof had a sky light but there was no way he could climb all the way up there. He checked the sides of the building for a back door or a worker’s entrance. He finally managed to find a door slightly ajar and ducked inside. It led him behind the counter of the bar. Mercifully there was no one else there, unless they left and were going to come back. He stuffed himself under the counter and quietly as he could and hid himself behind a crate. Claude was starting to feel ridiculous. The next king of Almyra, he’s not a coward he’s just hiding behind some plums! He thought bitterly as he pulled his knees to his chest. It was cramped in his little hovel. His gut was telling him that he should stay even though he was starting to worry this whole endeavor was a waste of time. Someone started speaking and it took his ears a moment to focus on the words.

“The King is a fool to think that Fodlan isn’t a threat. Even now I’ve heard rumors that they plan to expand their holdings around Fodlan’s throat and creep farther and farther into our territory.” It was the senator who wanted to fortify the border. Now he knew wasn’t the only one to ditch the party early.

“He was bewitched by that woman he calls a wife. I don’t know why he would marry her, as if we would bow to some foreign Queen. “ Her voice was filled with vitriol that made his blood run hot with indignation.

“You’ve been saying that for years Livia. Give it a break and tell us why you brought us here. ” A second voice piped up. This one he didn’t recognize.

“Because we’ve all thought it for years Nasim! But I’m the only one willing to say anything, I refuse to stay silent any longer.” Senator Livia hissed. “I called you all here because you are the select few I know I can trust. Friends, Almyra is heading to destruction at the hands of that witch. She whispers in his ear about the greatness of Fodlan making him eager to weaken the border. I’d wager anything that she has been plotting to make us bow to foreign rule ever since she came here.”

Claude’s fingernails dung into his legs. Silently seething. His mother risked everything to leave Fodlan. She worked and fought and assimilated to become Almyran, and this is how these idiots saw her?

“Ever since she’s been here Zashir has grown soft in our relations with the Alliance. I believe that she has contact with her family in Fodlan, telling her how to manipulate the King. Pulling back our defenses around the boarder, establishing trade routes with those, who still in waking memory, were our enemies!”

There was a muttering of agreement as Claude tried to burn each voice into his memory to figure out who else was in the room.

“Then there’s that child who the locals call the green-eyed demon. Eyes, that he inherited from his mother and with them he got her foreign temperament. He’s a tricky menace to the towns folk and the bane of the court. That half breed doesn’t resemble anything close to a true Almyran!”

The mutters turned to shouts as the conspirators grew bolder.

“Yet that weakling is heir to the throne?” He could hear her hiss.

“You all know as well as I that the instant he gains power that he will call on his kinsmen in Fodlan and he will force our proud nation to bow under foreign oppression. It is our duty to protect our country. We cannot allow anyone to ascend the throne if their devotion to our great nation is in question.”

Claude wanted to scream. He didn’t know who his ‘kinsmen’ were. His mother never talked about Fodlan He didn’t even know what part of the continent she was from, let alone the family and life she left behind. How could either of them be loyal to a place that she abandoned and that he never stepped foot in!

There was an uproar among the traitors. Most of them chiming in agreement. One voice cut through.

The same person from before, Nasim, interrupted. “Livia, He’s only sixteen. We can wait for him to inherit the throne, then select someone to challenge the succession. They fight, we win, problem solved. We have procedures for this, There’s no need to act so suddenly and risk a power struggle.”

“And let the rot fester longer? The threat of Fodlan waits for no one Nasim! Amelda and her spawn are already planning our downfall! Why else would the boy be named heir instead of a true Almyran! The foreigners have already claimed the succession, their next step is to undermine our power and make us weak enough to annex. Why else would our troops be pulled back? Why else would our defenses be falling?”

“There are other ways we can try to fix this. We could put people in place to influence the boy, keep an eye on him.” Nasim countered.

“Such things take time. Time, that we no longer have. Now that the heir has been named, who is to say that the witch won’t just kill King Zashir tomorrow or within the next moon?

“But-“

“Silence!” Livia shouted. The whole tavern fell quiet. “My fellow Almyrans, the time to act is now. If we can’t rid ourselves of this foreign influence, then we are doomed. We must strike while the iron is hot. In order to stop the corruption, we must cut it off from its source.”

“You can’t possibly mean-“

“Yes, we must kill the boy and it’s mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Green Eyes Red Blood Pt 1  
I updated the chapter titles so they may be different now.


	3. Green Eyes Red Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes may be green but his blood runs red.  
or  
Claude panics himself to sleep as he contemplates humanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the others because it was originally super long. The next chapter should be up tomorrow to compensate. 
> 
> All of the names except Amelda and Livia are as Persian as I could get because Almyra is based mostly on Persian culture. Amelda has a non-Persian name because she is not Almyran and Livia is named after the wife of a roman emperor who was know to kill her rivals.The Festival and the ritual involved in it are mentioned in Claude's supports with Annette and they are based off of an actual religion.  
I'll be making a list of the supports and conversations I referenced as well as cultural info at the end of this fic.

Claude was frozen with dread. A cold numbing sensation flooded his blood with panic and urged his legs to run. Yet he stayed right where he was. He knew he needed to find out more and gather as much information as possible, even if every instinct told him to run. He placed one hand over his chest, fearful that the very pounding of his heart would be heard and give him away.

Livia, the main conspirator continued. “In three weeks there will be the Festival of the Summer Moon. Under the cover of night during the bonfire will be the perfect time to strike. While the rites are being performed two of you will separate Amelda and the boy from the crowd. While everyone is focused on the dancing, one of you will allow the ceremonial fires to get out of hand causing a commotion that will distract the king. Then we will take the two foreigners and kill them. We’ll stage their corpses by the boarder as if they were trying to escape and plant a letter on the witch’s body telling her to return to Fodlan and betray Almyra.”

“King Zashir will never believe it.” Nasim spoke out.

Claude didn’t know much about Nasim but he promised that if he survived this he would hold a feast in her honor.

“He doesn’t need to. As long as we can convince the rest of the senate then it will work. There are many there who share our ideals and would jump at the chance to act upon them. The king’s hands will be tied, and we will be able to cut off ties with Fodlan once and for all.”

“What if we don’t play along with your plan? I can’t be the only one hesitant over killing a child.”

Claude heard the heels of Livia’s shoes click in a slow and deliberate stride as she approached where he figured Nasim was sitting. He never realized walking could be an intimidation tactic.

“If you don’t ‘play’ along” she spat. “Then I will frame you in their plot against Almyra and laugh as you are executed for treason. Am. I. Understood?” Each pause punctuated with cold anger.

There was a long stretch of silence. Before he heard Nasim reply. “Perfectly.” A hint of indignation remained.

He could almost feel Livia’s ego purr with satisfaction at the response. “I will send a letter with further instructions to each of you. Look for my seal. May Almyra stand forever.”

Claude held his breath as the senators left. The silence was heavy as each had the assassination plot on their minds. He waited to make sure that no one lingered behind and that they were all far enough away. The flames went out and the whole tavern went dark. Still he waited throughout the night, every noise made his heart stop beating in case someone had come back to ambush him.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed when he finally extracted himself from his little nook. He brushed the cobwebs and debris out of his dark hair and took a deep breath. He was shaking. All he could think of was why. Why his family? Just because his father was King and his mother was foreign? His mother never spoke of her birthplace, he didn’t even know what part of the continent she was from. She considered Almyra her homeland as did he. Claude only knew the vast deserts and fields of Almyra. By the gods he had never even been to Fodlan! The happy fests and bright rituals of Almyra were the only culture he could claim as his. He knew the towns folk never trusted him or his mother because of the war. They would look at him with suspicion in the streets at best, and at worse they would beat him. Every time he thought that things could change if only they got to know him, and every time he was wrong. But was that enough to want to kill him? He had to tell someone, there were many things that he could handle on his own, but this? He had to find Darius.

Quietly he opened the back door of the tavern and snuck out. The cold desert air bit his skin as he blindly groped around in the darkness. There was no light in this part of town. He tried to summon fire, but magic was never his strong suit. A few sparks sputtered out in his palm leaving him more drained than before. In the distance he could make out the light of the senate house on top of the hill in the center of the city. He followed that until dim street lights began to illuminate his way. He ran through the streets searching and searching for landmarks he recognized but everything looked different under the cover of nightfall, the confusion adding to his paranoid state. He found the house where Darius and his father lived. He took up lose rocks from the street and threw them at Darius’s window. One of them leaving a crack in the glass. The younger boy ran out of the house to chastise him.

“Claude! Do you know what time it is! Where were—" Claude put his hand over his friend’s mouth and pulled him into a tight hug.

“They want us dead, Darius. My mother for being here and me for being born.” He whispered into his ear.

Darius threw him off with ease. “What are you talking about? Who are they? he looked scared but didn’t protest as Claude dragged him through the threshold and locked the door and closed the windows. Claude checked every nook and cranny of the room for any signs of unwanted ears before turning to speak.

His body so filled with electricity yet so tired to the bone. He let himself fall to the ground. His thoughts were scattered and he had no idea where to start. Darius lumped down next to him and took both of Claude’s hands, still shaking, into his own. “Just take a deep breath and explain.”

He shut his eyes and tried to focus on how hard the wall felt at his back and how cold the floor felt below. Anything to keep him grounded. “Senator Livia. I was arguing with her during the senate hearings, she wanted to re-militarize the border. At first I thought she was just paranoid, but now...” He whispered. “After the banquet I followed some people to a bar in the city. I overheard the whole thing.” He couldn’t stop the words from falling once he got started. He tried to include everything he heard down to the last detail. All the while Darius said nothing. His expression growing from upset to worried to angered.

“You’ve been successor for less than a night, and they’re already trying to assassinate you!” Darius hissed.

It all felt like it was happening to someone else. Assassination just felt like the wrong word. He wasn’t anyone important. He was just Claude. “There has to be something we can do. Some way to stop them, I just have to figure this out.”

“We have to tell your parents.” Darius insisted. “They can do something about this, they can fix this!” he got up and grabbed Claude’s arm trying to drag him up with him.

“We can’t!” Claude used his weight to pull the other boy back down. “If they find out then they’ll kill the conspirators immediately.”

Darius looked at him with like he was stupid. “Sounds perfect to me. Don’t make this more complicated Claude, you have to get them before they get you.”

“But there has to be another way to do this that doesn’t make things worse!”

Darius grabbed both sides of Claude’s face in his hands. “Senator Livia is just another village bully, and we know how to deal with those. You punch first and punch hard. It’s like what Nader said, Ya need to take this head on. Stop looking for ways to avoid the issue right in front of you.”

“It’s not that simple Darius!” Claude nearly shouted, pushing him off. “I’m not avoiding the issue I’m just thinking ahead instead of doing something rash! Livia isn’t just another village bully, she’s a senator, with massive amounts of influence. We can’t just accuse her of conspiracy and execute her without any proof. If we do that we’ll lose the trust of the people, and her followers would scatter to the wind. My family will be seen as paranoid if we decide to execute people we don’t agree with, and there’ll be public outcry. We’d also make enemies of the senate which can spell civil war down the line. I don’t want them to die martyrs and make us look like tyrants.”

“Oh.” Darius seemed to contemplate this. “Fine, I get it kinda…What about Nader? We could tell him right? He has no connection to the senate and people will trust you if he’s on your side.”

Claude sighed at how simple Darius made things under less dire consequences it would almost be endearing. “He would just tell my parents. Even if he didn’t, he would publicly be allying himself with my family and that would only put a target on him too.”

“What exactly do you plan on doing then? Fighting them all one by one?”

Claude took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The thoughts in his head colliding like untamed wyverns. There had to be a way to fix all of this without giving further cause for descent. There was an answer in there somewhere it all felt like a tangled puzzle with only half of the pieces. He needed more information.

“If they’re going to do this during the Summer Moon Festival, then we only have a few weeks to come up with a plan. If we want this to end well, we need evidence. Something like letters or other correspondence, maybe even get Livia to confess. Then we can find out how deep this runs and if there are any others that might be harboring the same kind of… ill will towards my family.”

Darius was rubbing one of his temples. “ How are we even going to find out who is all involved in this? Ya said so yourself you have no idea who else was in that tavern. It would be easier to just challenge the whole senate.”

“That would be a very bad idea for so many reasons that I can’t even explain, but you have a point.” He conceded. “Livia said she would send sealed letters to the others, if we can intercept those then we can figure out who else is involved and what each person’s role is. That will give us a pretty good list of people we need to take care of.” Claude was starting to calm down and put things in perspective. His blood no longer on fire and the buzzing in his brain finally quieting. This is what he did best after all, planning and scheming. “You can follow Livia’s messenger tomorrow and steal the letters after they’ve been delivered. Then we can read them and reseal them. That would at least give us enough concrete details to make an actual plan around.

“If the seals are broken they might change the plan and then we’ll have no idea what they’re going to do.”

“It won’t be that hard. Nothing I haven’t done before.” He shrugged.

Darius’s brow raised. “The fact that you’ve already figured that out worries me.”

“It gives me a small comfort that you still don’t know all my tricks.” He winked.

Darius stifled a yawn. “Tricks or not we should get some shut eye. Neither of us will be coming up with any brilliant ideas if we’re falling asleep tomorrow. It’s not as if we can do anything without those letters.”

The sun was starting to rise again. Although his eyes were struggling to keep open, sleep felt wrong. How do people even proceed after learning about their own assassination? Do they just go on like nothing happened?  
Darius had fallen asleep with his head on Claude’s lap. It gave him a quiet moment to think as he played with his friend’s coarse hair. He knew that he could probably think more clearly if he joined in a nap, but he was still restless with unanswered questions. What if he couldn’t come up with a plan in time. What if his plan failed and they succeeded in killing him, how would his father cope with the loss? What if he can’t stop them in time and they killed his mother? She would put up a fight for sure but there was only so much she could physically do. Were they planning on killing him with magic, or a swift blade? Was there even time to make a contingency plan? Was Darius right and he needed to punch first?

What did death even feel like? Was it quiet? Was it painless? Tears silently rolled down his cheeks but he refused to acknowledge them. He knew the time for crying was over, they were coming for him and there was nothing he could do about it. Now was the time for action. But as much as he tried to shove his emotions down, they kept welling back up, like an unstoppable wave trying to drown him. He was scared. How couldn’t he be? He was just about to turn seventeen next moon, he was just a child. How was it even possible for people who didn’t know him to hate him so much?

Logically it made no sense. Just because of his bloodline people looked down upon him. Just because of his blood people thought he was a coward, a menace, an urchin undeserving of understanding. Blood shouldn’t have that power. His eyes might be green but his blood ran red just like everyone else's. Even as far west as Brigid or Dagda, people were still people. But not everyone was treated like it. No one should be hated for what they are, or where they’re from. No one deserved to be abused and despised like he had been.

Darius stirred, and Claude briefly stopped moving. When his friend’s gentle snoring restarted he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His fingers tried to braid Darius’s short dark hair. Even now he had to remember he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to bear this burden by himself. He smiled down at his sleeping friend.

Maybe in another life people could see past their differences and learn from shared experiences. It was a silly idea. One he didn’t have the power to bring to light. Maybe if he were king, he would have enough power to fix things, change them like his father thought he could. He would have to make it out alive first. Claude could feel himself slipping into sleep. If he survived this, he would take this silly idea and make it a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Plot Thickens  
With a deadline of three weeks, Claude needs to come up with something. FAST.


	4. A Dangerous Hobby: The Plot Thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Livia on the loose, Claude and Darius need to think of something, and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off of Byleth and Claude's B support where Byleth asks, Why such a dangerous hobby?  
I also referenced Hermione Granger a little bit and one of Claude's favorite dishes in the dinning hall. Parts of this scheme are also inspired by Louis the sun king, and a whole bunch of other bad ideas.

The birds started chirping when Claude decided to wake Darius. He didn’t want to walk home by himself, and Darius didn’t want him to be ambushed. By the time they got to the royal house, Darius slipped away to go track down Livia’s personal messenger and steal the letters before it got too late.Claude snuck into his bedroom and tried to get as much sleep as possible before he got called down to breakfast. The second his head met the pillow he was out like a light. His relief however, was short lived.

There was a thunderous knock at the door, jolting him out of bed.

“Food’s on!” his father yelled through the door. Claude groaned and made his way down to the kitchen table. He felt like a wyvern stepped on him as he sat down and tried to look more alert than he felt. A pot of tea was placed in front of him as his father sat down at his side.

“Morning Son! How’s the future king feeling?” His father was absolutely beaming at him as he slapped his shoulder. His prideful smile reached ear to ear. Yesterday felt like an epoch ago and given the night he had, Claude had almost forgotten that he had to rule this place, if he even survived till the end of the month.

“You gave us quite a fright until you crept back two hours ago.” So that’s how long it’d been. No wonder he still felt horrible.

He tried to force a smile on his face as he summoned the last of his energy to look as if he had indeed slept the night prior. “I’m feeling better, last night was just a lot to take in.” He wasn’t lying as he tried to brush it off. “I just needed a little breathing space is all.”

The King folded his arms behind his head and rested his feet on the table. “Your mother said as much. She said “Zashir, you didn’t give him any warning before making an announcement like that, you idiot! he probably needs time to process things.” He did a horrible impression of his wife that got a slight laugh from Claude. 

“A little warning would be nice next time.” He joked back. He took long pull of tea hoping that it would help him stay awake. The bitter taste of pine needles slowly stirring his senses awake. He quickly poured himself another cup.

Zashir smiled and started on his own breakfast. “I understand that things can get overwhelming, but tell someone where you're going. I was almost worried you’d been killed!”

Claude choked on his tea. This didn’t escape the King’s attention. “You alright there son?”

He forced the steaming liquid down and tried to cover his reaction. “I’m fine but you can’t just joke about something like that! I’ve only been heir for a day, I don’t want to start thinking about assassination so soon!” he used his coughing to mask his nervous laughter.

Amelda sauntered to the kitchen table, peeling a noa fruit with a knife. She kissed her husband’s cheek before knocking his feet off the table and sitting on the empty bench in front of them. “Your father’s point is that you can’t keep disappearing like that. People will be keeping a close eye on you now. It doesn’t help your image if you keep slinking off like a delinquent.”

There was a crash that must have been someone slamming the gate. Followed by familiar footfalls. “Good morning Your Highnesses!” Darius sprinted into the kitchen. This was a common enough occurrence that no one raised an eye or noticed how hard Darius was breathing as he took a seat next to Claude. Darius nudged him pointedly in the side. The deed was done.

“Good morning Darius!” Amelda greeted, waving her knife. “You’re just in time, I was just about to lecture my son about his new responsibilities!” She cut a few slices and offered them to Darius who took them graciously.

Amelda sighed as she turned her attention to her son. “Claude, you’re the heir apparent, and now that you’re next in line you need to start acting like it. Starting with your studies.” She pointedly handed him a few slices of fruit and used her knife to gesture to a stack of books he hadn’t noticed. “Contrary to your father’s belief, you need more than brawn to rule a country. You can start by reading up on military, and political history. Let’s see how well you do with those before moving on to other subjects.”

Claude looked at the books and saw an opportunity. “So you’re saying you want me to stay cooped up in my room as long as it takes to finish these?” he asked, coyly.

“You’re not getting out of chores if that’s what you’re implying.” The queen corrected.

He shoved the noa slices into his mouth. “Right. Well, no time like the present to start a life of solitude. I’ll get started right away.” He grabbed the books in one hand and the teapot in the other before he scurried off to his room.

Amelda’s emerald eyes narrowed. “Darius, can you please check on him? My son is acting stranger than normal.” Darius nodded and quickly followed suit.

Claude slammed the door shut and threw himself, and the books on his bed. His was tempted to let the blankets and sheets consume him perhaps if he slept long enough this would all be over by the time he woke up.

Darius entered shortly after, slipping the lock into place behind him. “We need to tell them.”

Claude rubbed the oncoming sleep from his eyes. “What we need is a plan, or do I have to list off all the reasons that’s a horrible idea _ again _?” He yawned.

Darius flopped down next to him, both staring at the ceiling. The younger boy reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a stack of papers. “I only found the guy after he delivered the last one so I had to go to the house of every senator and dig through their mail 'till I found Livia’s seal. I deserve a nap.” 

Claude snatched the letters from Darius as he surrendered his bed to his friend. He went to his desk and took out a small parchment bundle from a hidden drawer. He untied the twine and took out a satchel of plaster, a dish and a stylus . As Darius curled up in a ball on the bed and slept, Claude poured the tea into the shallow dish and began to mix. The heat was making the plaster set up quickly. With a deft hand he grabbed a letter and took an impression of the wax seal. A little trick he learned from when he started intercepting official correspondence. He waited for it to set, and carefully used the steam from the teapot to loosen the wax until it was soft enough to slide a knife under.

He started reading the letters. There were five of them total. As Claude read them, he stared to grow concerned. Only five people, and the plan was shockingly simple. Two people were assigned to stand watch in order to ensure a unseen escape at the exit, and at the stables waiting with mounts. One person each was tasked with kidnapping himself and his mother, they were told to use any force necessary to drag them out. Crude, yet efficient he had to admit. One more person was assigned the task of riding ahead to the border. They had the luxurious task of waiting there to execute him and planting the letter on his mother’s corpse. That way, only one person had to get their hands dirty. That left Livia herself with starting the fire that would cause the distraction for everything to go down.

It was basic and simple, but that made it all the harder to deal with. If it was something more intricate it might be easier to disassemble, pull out one brick and the whole building would fall, but this was solid. Few people, few variables, fewer ways to mess it up. It being so simple also suggested that he might be missing information, hidden details that he couldn’t account for. He wrote down copies of each letter so that he could reference them later. By the time he was done the plaster set up and he was ready to reseal the messages, good as new. As he re-melted the wax with a candle, Darius was shuffling around under the covers.

“Can’t sleep?” Claude asked, pressing the fake seal into the newly soft wax.

“Nope, the sound of your thinking’s too loud.” Darius stretched his arms languidly. "What are we dealing with?”

“Five letters, five people-six if you count the lovely Livia.” Claude summarized. “Two guarding the door, two dragging me and my mom away and one lone assassin. Livia’s job is to set the fire that will cause the distraction. She's either incredibly good at magic and therefore the best one for the job, or she must really want to keep her hands clean.” Claude resealed the letters and stacked them in a neat pile. “All we need now is to figure out how to catch them red handed.”

Darius took the stack of letters fanned them through the air to cool the wax. He sat on the edge of Claude's desk and gave his friend a questioning look. “Are you still serious about trying to gather evidence? These letters are the only evidence that we need. We can go to the senate right now.” he slapped the pile down on Claude's head.

“Livia will say that they were foraged. Or that we planted them on her. It’s not solid enough. If we don’t want them to have a second chance to murder me, then we need something absolutely indisputable. 

Darius groaned. “ I understand why you want to be as methodical as possible. It’s your life on the line after all. But I don’t understand why ya aren’t looking for the fastest way to finish this. I don’t think it’s that safe for you or Amelda to play the long game here. There are so many variables and so much is riding on this. How are we even going to pull this off?” 

“You're right The next senate meeting is in three months, it will be too late by then.” 

“Maybe your Dad can call an emergency meeting!” It wasn’t the worst idea that Darius had, but it would take a lot of convincing to get his father to call an emergency meeting. Even then it would probably end in a trial, which would give Livia enough time to consider other options that he couldn’t plan for. Then it hit him.

“There’s the feast my father is hosting before the ritual gets started. Most of the senate will be there, and we can come up with a way to get Livia to confess in front of everyone.”

“Livia won’t spill her guts just because we ask nicely! What’s your plan, get her drunk enough to admit to treason?”

Claude chuckled. Despite the situation, the idea of Livia drunk enough to incriminate herself was kinda amusing. His face lit up in realization. “I’m an idiot.”

“No arguments there.”

He jumped from his desk and dove under the bed, searching until his hand caught a particularly thick tome.

“I found this book in the library awhile back, it has tons of instructions about poisons and their various effects. There has to be a way to incapacitate people or something that we can use to make them talk.”

He ran his finger down the table of contents seeing if there was anything useful. He grabbed a quill and on his arm, quickly jotted down the page numbers of several very promising fast acting poisons.

“During the feast would be the perfect opportunity to poison someone’s food, both of us will have access to my family’s kitchen, and we can target the conspirators specifically. All we need to do is figure out how to get Livia to talk, and the whole senate will be there as witnesses.” He could hardly help himself. The beginnings of a plan unfurling in his mind.

Darius folded his arms across his chest. “So your plan is to poison a whole bunch of people and watch them suffer from afar. Claude, this is exactly why people call ya a demon.”

“Planning ahead to stop my own murder doesn’t make me demonic…”His green eyes flashed with excitement. “It makes me a schemer.”

* * *

Darius went to return the original letters to their intended recipients. In the meantime, Claude started writing down two lists of ingredients they would need. One for him and one for Darius, they couldn’t afford to buy all of the things in the same place, least they raise suspicion. He was careful to make each list appear arbitrary. So that no one could figure out what they were making by looking at their ingredients. He also made a list of the kitchen equipment he would have to steal in order to make the poisons and antidotes. 

Gathering all of the ingredients took them most of the day and multiple trips to the market. They visited every vendor on every corner. Claude’s purse would have been completely empty if he didn’t have the foresight to take a personal loan from the treasury. _ It's not stealing if I intend to pay it back_, he rationalized.

His room looked like a healers ward by the end of it all. Dried and fresh herbs laid out on the bed while meticulously labeled jars of extracts and oils took up most of his dresser. He managed to snag some cooking supplies from the kitchen. A few pots, pans and wire racks were mutilated in the process, but he was happy with the resulting boiler he situated near his window. When he was satisfied with his workspace, Claude started on the next phase of his plan.

The normal toxins were easy to figure out. He decided on a strong laxative. If the book was right, the effects would take hold reliably in twenty minutes sending the victims straight to the nearest bathroom, rendering them almost entirely unable to escape. The list of ingredients was a little lengthy, but the procedure to make it looked fairly simple. He set Darius on prepping the ingredients while he started working on an antitoxin. 

He checked the recipe again before starting to muddle some mint leaves. The mindless work gave him a chance to calm down. It was nice not to think, even if it was only for a short time. Under less trying circumstances, he might have even considered this fun. Claude thought as he let himself get lost in the stinging smell of mint.

The laxatives were done in a few hours. Claude was not looking forward to testing them out, but his plan hinged on making sure they worked properly. He and Darius tested them together. It was exactly twenty minutes as promised when both of them opted for the antitoxin. As the cold fluid worked its way down their throats, Darius stifled a laugh and Claude couldn’t help but smile despite the fact that they both almost shit themselves. The first part of his plan was completed. The second part was more discouraging.

Two days passed since he made any leeway. The book had absolutely nothing that he could make for Livia. If his goal was to make a truth potion, then he wasn’t going to find answers here. It was mainly a book of cures and remedies that he was manipulating for unintended purposes, but if he read between the lines he was able to figure out certain things like which things at which dosages were harmful.

He stared into a cup of tea, long since cold, hoping it would give him answers. His own face greeted him in the reflection. Maybe it didn’t need to make anyone tell the truth, but make them think they had to. If he was able to induce stressful enough conditions, then maybe his mark would believe anything to alleviate their symptoms.Then all he would have to do is the right questions to stir up the correct initial response.

He toyed with the idea for a while considering what kind of conditions he needed to create to really sell the trick. If he could create a poison that caused them to sweat or make their tongue go numb then he might be able to create the illusion of a truth serum of sorts. If he could convince the victim that the only thing that could stop the progression of the potion was speaking honestly, or maybe he could leverage an antidote against them? No that wouldn’t work then Livia would just kill him for it. He twirled his braid around his finger. It certainly was a promising idea, but there was no way he could test this out. Sure he could try certain components on himself, it would hurt a little, but there was no way for him to see if someone could be tricked by this if he already knew how it was supposed to work.

Darius came to check on him. One hand was busy shoving a roll into his mouth while the other hand extended a plate of roasted pheasant to him. Claude cleared a spot on his crowded desk. 

“Any news from the outside world?” Claude joked dryly.

“Well, your parents are starting to worry that they’re working ya too hard.” Darius muttered through a full mouth. “That, and Nader is starting to worry that you’re slacking off on training.”

“What else’s new.” Claude whispered. His eyes never leaving his notes.

“Found anything?” Darius asked, brushing his hands off.

Claude groaned and slammed his face into the old open book. 

Darius winced. “That hard huh?”

“It’s like trying to make a love potion, Darius, it just doesn’t work.” Claude mumbled into the pages. “Poisons and potions can only do so much, they can’t _ force _you to do anything you wouldn’t already do.”

He lifted his face from the book and leaned back into his chair. “I have a few ideas, but I have no way to test them out, I would do it myself but if I already know what’s supposed to happen it might skew the results.”

“What about me? I could always try it out.” Darius offered. “As long as you have an antitoxin nearby. Don’t want you to kill me or nothin’” He stipulated.

His eyes widened. “Darius, I can’t let you do that you have no idea what I’d be asking of you. The effects of what I’m considering won’t be pretty. It won’t be a mild stomach ache I’d be giving you, this is your mind we’re talking about..”

Darius gave him a determined glare. “Claude. I’m not offering lightly-“

“Sure seems like it.”

“Shut up idiot!” Darius punched him in the arm. “When we started this plan I promised myself I would do whatever it takes to stop these people. You and your family have done so much for me after my mom passed, if anything happened to you or Amelda...”

“I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Darius seemed frustrated. “This isn’t the time for you to be considering your morals. This is a treat to your life, and you should be fine with doing whatever it takes to save yourself!” 

“No. Not unless it’s our very last option.” He turned back to the book. “I need to try and put a recipe together to see if it’s even possible.” We can figure this out later.” 

He started scribbling down a tentative list of ideas. There had to be a better way he just knew it. But Darius brought up a good point. If he wasn’t willing to do this to his friend was he really willing to inflict this kind of pain on an enemy? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He still had a lot of kinks to work out with his current plan, he could worry about the ethics later, if he lived. Still, the worry gnawed at the back of his mind. _I’m not going to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to do myself._ He resolved. 

* * *

Days went by without any progress. Claude was getting anxious about his lack of results. He had certain aspects figured out like doubling otherwise safe medicines in order to induce their unwanted side effects. But finding the right quantities, and trying to figure out which extracts would cancel out other ingredients was difficult to say the least. Darius stayed with him during the day. Sometimes helping him work on ingredients, other times reading aloud the books his mother gave him so that they could pretend like he was studying during his brief forays out of his room. Claude was starting to suspect that Darius was just worried about him. 

The process was taking a toll on him physically. Not only did he get little sleep due to the hours of research, but he had to test each new rendition himself to observe his own work. Every time he tweaked the formula and made changes meant another trial on himself. The closer and closer he got to a final product the more and more his body screamed at him to stop.

With each trial he noticed that he needed to increase the dosage. His body was building an immunity against the poison so certain batches he had to test twice. Creating custom antidotes for himself became too time consuming since it required him to look up counters for each new ingredient he added. It was around the fourth batch where he decided to just use ipecac to get the toxins out of his system. The antitoxin would have to wait until he was certain about his final product. It wasn’t until dinner one night that his mother pointed out that he was starting to lose weight.

Dinner was always the worst part of the day. Since his plans started, it was the only time he got to see his parents. He tried to keep up a smile and deflect the conversation to whatever obscure history he ‘read’ that day. He almost couldn’t bear to see how concerned they looked. If his plan failed, or if Livia outsmarted him, then these were the last moments he would have with his parents. He couldn’t let that be the case. 

He was starting to worry that he misjudged and put too much certainty in this idea, But it was too late to turn back now. Darius still had the copies of the letters to use as a backup, but without more evidence he still didn’t like the odds. He only had two days before the festival and Claude knew he was close. Too close to give up now.

His last batch was promising, so promising that he took the extra time to make an antidote. He had increased the amount of lancifolia extract, which would act as a tasteless emulsifier to bond the ingredients better. This was the one. It had to be. He stared at his home-brewed concoction, weary of taking a sip. He downed it with a sigh. He started to count the seconds in his head. He sat down at his desk and started recording how long it took each symptom to progress. As the poison ran its course he knew exactly what to expect. He clenched his jaw as he steadied his hand to write. Even though he knew by now what would happen, it didn't make it less horrifying to go through. 

After a while the affects started to wear off. Claude desperately chugged the antidote for good measure. He almost couldn’t taste the concoction, but he knew it worked as it rushed liquid relief through his overtaxed bloodstream. Five minutes. He only had five minutes to get Livia to confess. 

A desperate laugh escaped him as he stared down at his data. A trace of the antitoxin reminiscent on his lips, the bitter taste of victory. The poison was perfect. He just had no idea if it would be enough to trick anyone. 

Claude opened his bedroom window and let the desert air dry the sweat from his brow. The sun was rising on the horizon. His time was up. Only one day until the festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always say I'm going to post sooner next time, but I think it will take me at least another 2-3 weeks till I'm done, so hang in there! At least this chapter is really long, at some point I just had to stop myself.  
This chapter is slightly different than the others due to the fact that Claude is mostly in his own head at this point, I wanted to showcase his dedication in this chapter. The lengths that he would have to go through to be proficient in poison making is really intense for the game to brush it off. .  
Chapter inspirations and references above.
> 
> Next Chapter: Do You Ever Miss Home?  
Amelda's white lies, Livia's confession, and a feast that changes everything.


	5. Do You Ever Miss Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude has an existential crisis about literally everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with if I should post this chapter because of everything that is going on right now, then I realized that there isn't a time where racism isn't relevant. At first I thought this is just a fanfic who cares, but it is really important to me and a lot of it draws from my own experiences with racism and living as a non-black POC in a culture that hasn't always been kind. I can't help but use my perspective in my own writing. I don't want to conflate the very visceral and real and systematic problems of the current times with that of fictional characters and places. They are not the same, and they aren't comparable. Reality is painful for a lot of people and that's when we turn to fiction. I can't help but write what I know. I just really wanted to get that off my chest and encourage people to do what you can to actually punch the CEO of racism check out the efforts of civil rights groups in your area (NAACP) and donate money, your time or spread resources. I'll get off my soapbox now it's just been rough. I probably won't write an author's note like this again but yeah.

It was the day of the festival and Claude hadn't slept a wink. His nerves had kept his blood at an uncomfortable buzz since the sun rose. His whole body reverberated with anxiety. He made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a cup and poured himself a glass of a water to steady his nerves. There was absolutely no way for him to know if the poison would work and the uncertainty was eating away at him. Was five minutes even enough time? If this ended up not working he had a few contingencies but even then he was less certain about those than his original plans. He stared at the horizon from his bedroom window. Normally he wasn’t the type to enjoy such things, but this might have been his last chance to enjoy it.

It was early in the morning but his parents would be up soon. He didn’t have the chance to speak to them since he started on this scheme. His parents were getting busier the closer the festival got. It let him get away with never leaving his room, but it was incredibly inconvenient now that he wanted answers. 

Aside from his toxic obsession, there was another thing eating away at him. He knew he and his mother would never betray their home, but that lead him to thinking about how little he really knew about his mother’s upbringing. His whole life, she masterfully skirted around the issue. It was almost by magic how she managed to evade his questions. Now the mystery that shrouded his existence, was the reason for it potentially ending. If he was going to die because of this, he’d rather understand why. 

This whole situation had woken something in him. A part of him that he pretended didn't exist. He never felt incomplete before but that was because he had no other options. He knew who he was. He knew he was Almyran simply because that was all there was to know. That used to be enough for him. But Claude knew that there was something else. Like he was missing part of a greater truth. A truth he never dare let define him, but now he was aching for something more. There was only one person who could fill in the blanks.

There was a grunt as the kitchen door was shoved open. 

“Hey Mom?” he tried to sound casual. “How are you today?”

“Let’s see, the festival is tonight, and I still have to go through these supply orders.” Amelda dropped a hefty stack of papers onto the table. “So I’m tired. Why are you sucking up?” 

“I’m not sucking up.”

“That’s your first mistake," She grumbled. "You can fix it by making me some coffee.” 

With a groan, Claude started to rummage through the cabinet trying to find some cups.“Isn’t coffee a bit aggressive for this early in the morning?”

“I’ll show you aggressive.”

“I got the hint, yeesh.” He started the stove and let the water come to a boil before adding in the coffee and an absurd amount of sugar for his mother. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Make yourself useful, and prioritize these for me.” She handed him half a stack of her papers. They worked in comfortable silence, shifting papers between each other. It was a nice rhythm that he didn’t want to interrupt.

Amelda used the end of her quill to tickle Claude’s forehead. He batted it away. 

“Stop it.” He whined.

“Come’on what are you thinking about. You’ve been too quiet this whole time, somethings up.”

He sighed, sometimes his mother was too observant for his own good. “ You know how I’ve been researching political history?”’

“Yes, because I told you to.” Her response was curt not looking away from her paperwork.

“Exactly, well, it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s all fascinating really, there’s so many factors you have to consider in international relations, and it just got me thinking-.”

“Get to the point kiddo.”

“I know it might be a touchy subject, but I've always wondered exactly where you came from, before you met Dad. I’ve alwa-”

“The Leicester Alliance.” She looked up at her son. “That’s where we’re from.”

Claude choked. “Wait-what?” The Alliance had been an enemy of the state for longer than he’d been alive. It was only recently that His father had reestablished trade with them but that didn’t stop the occasional attacks from both sides of the border. The implications of her being from an openly hostile nation would ruin her reputation. It was starting to make sense that she never talked about it before.Yet she told him like she was talking about the weather! “You’re telling me that easily? I thought I was gonna have to drag it out of you.” He laughed trying to cover up how frazzled he felt. He never expected her to be this forthcoming.

She shrugged. “You’re old enough to know now. I was actually thinking about telling you sooner or later. Probably later, knowing me.”

He signed and nervously raked a hand through his hair. “I thought this would be more of a dramatic moment considering that you hid it from me for years.”

“You never asked.” The queen teased.

His jaw hit the floor. “Yes I did! So many times! I thought it was a sore topic for you!”

She gave him a small chuckle.“It’s not that important. It’s not like you’ve changed as a person.”

“Not important! This means everything. I mean, just think about the politics of it. You hailing from the sworn enemy of Almyra-” 

She leveled him a serious look. “And that's the exact reason that this isn’t public knowledge, boy.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking I’m just so… I don’t even know what...this is information that I never thought I’d learn. I can’t even begin to think of what this means.” 

“It means that you’re still you and I’m still your mother. This changes nothing.”

“I know that it doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t matter if you're from the Alliance or the Empire you’d still be you, it just paints a bigger picture than I ever imagined being a part of.” 

“I don’t follow.”

“Well, For starters it changes how I see you and Dad. At first I figured that you might have just stowed away on a merchant's caravan and met Dad along the way. But now… Now I’m imagining some great tragic love story, with you on one side of the war and Dad on the other, falling into forbidden love with the enemy.”

“Actually you're not that far off. I mean… it didn't end in tragedy, but It ended in you. To some people, that’s the same thing.” 

“Hey!” They both laughed. It was a comfortable moment. The sun hit his mother's hair and it glimmered like the gold on the Alliance flag. Claude sat down next to her and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“My whole life I’ve lived being blamed for something I had no idea about. A secret half of me that was just left blank, but now that I can fill in the missing piece. It feels like nothing about me has changed, yet everything is different. I have so many more questions.”

“Always you and your questions.”Amelda ruffled his hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Go ahead, hit me.”

His eyes lit up. “What was it like to live there? What did it look like? Do you have any family still in Fodlan? What is Alliance culture like? Did you ever see the war from the other side?”

Amelda smiled. “Cool it kid, one at a time. The Alliance is only across the mountain range its not in another realm or anything. It was actually a lot like right here. Merchants flooded the streets with wares. I lived in Deridu the capital. Some called it the aquatic capital because there were canals all over the place that connected the city. Every summer we used to swim in those canals and just float around the city.”

Claude was shocked. “You know how to swim?” 

“It’s not that hard.One day, we might even visit, and I can teach you.” 

His heart stopped.“You mean we can visit? Like, actually go across the border and see it? Are you serious?” Just the idea of seeing where his mother grew up, what it was like there, learning about this new part of himself was something he never imagined before.

“Yeah, eventually. When the time is right, it’s not like we can just march ourselves over there right now we got a lot of work to do here. But it would be nice to see how much the place has changed.” Her eyes drifted off to place Claude couldn’t follow. Was it nostalgia? Regret? Whatever it was passed as quickly as it came.She snapped herself out of it and hugged him closer. “What else... My mother passed while I was young, but my father and brother were both alive last I checked.”

“So I have an uncle and a grandfather just wandering around Fodlan who don’t know I exist?”

“I mean you didn’t know they existed either. Goddess, the way Godfrey was, you might also have cousins out there somewhere.”

“Do I look like any of them or did I get all my good looks from Dad’s side?” He asked.

“Thank the goddess you don’t look like your grandfather, but your smile,” She cupped his face tenderly. “your smile reminds me of my brother. He used to smile his way out of trouble all the time when we were younger.” her eyes glossed over. “Just like you.” she kissed the top of his head.

Claude gave his mother the brightest smile he could manage. “Last question-- for now.”

“Fine one more.”

“Do you miss anything?”

“I mean I have a few friends I haven’t seen in awhile, but no. There's nothing left for me there. I got you and your Dad and that’s all I could ever ask for.”

Claude's heart caught in his throat. He wrapped his arms around his mother and buried his face in her shoulder. It didn't matter how much he put himself through over the past couple of weeks. All of the research and pain was worth it. If they survived then he had the opportunity to explore this new world that his mother opened up to him, and they could do it together.

* * *

The whole household was in chaos. People ran with arms full of decorations and food, making it easier for Darius and Claude to blend in. Amid the hustle and bustle of preparation no one even noticed Darius was taking extra time polishing the cutlery and certain placements. The polishing cloth was a perfect cover for his actions as coated select utensils and glasses in poison while pretending to polish them.

Claude busied himself by decorating the entrance way. Bright oranges and yellows marked the solstice festival with a firey vengeance. The bonfire was being built in the city square. He could see it from the entrance, usually the frenzy of dance, music, and fire was his favorite part of the solstice, but now it was looming in his vision like a funeral pyre. He hid a dagger in his waistband and a knife in his shoe as a contingency he hoped he wouldn’t have to use.

He caught up with Darius throughout the day to make sure everything was in order. They could only exchange brief words here and there to avoid raising suspicion. Claude didn’t want to make Darius a target if anything went wrong. 

“I gotta go and make sure my dad’s awake. I’ll see ya at dinner.”

“Hey, this could be the last thing you ever say to me and you chose ‘see ya at dinner?”

Darius playfully punched Claude’s arm. “It won’t be the last, because everything's going to work out fine. You can’t go in thinking you’re already dead meat ya idiot.”

“I guess you're right, but it’s hard not to be worried about getting murdered.”

“Hey.” Darius grabbed both of Claude’s shoulders. “You’ve done everything you can. Now it’s up to fate.”

“That is the single least reassuring thing you could possibly say.”

“I’m serious, everything is going to be fine so-.” Darius had such sincere eyes. He truly thought everything would be alright and his confidence was infectious. “See ya at dinner?”

Claude pulled Darius into a tight hug. “Yeah, see ya at dinner.”

The sun was starting to set. The darkness creeping in on the edge of creation. It was show time. 

* * *

Claude stood front and center with his family as they welcomed people to the feast. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. The solstice festival always brought a sense of joy around it. Normally, it was one of the few days a year the Claude could relax and let loose a little. But now, that couldn't be further from the truth. He helped people to their seats at the table, matching memorized faces to names on each place card. Through the smiles and niceties he wondered how many of them would sympathize with Livia if given the chance. Where there more than just her inner circle? How many of them hid their resentments like he hid his intentions?

“Ah Senator Livia! Happy you could make it!”

“Of course Zashir, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Claude’s head snapped around. That voice. It was her. In that moment, his heart stopped beating. Icey dread spread like lightning through his body. Liva smiled so sweetly at his father it made him sick. The way she held herself, so tall, so proud, so Almyran. She radiated a power that made it look like she could bend the world to her will. But not tonight. Tonight, Claude would not bend.

“Claude! Get over here and show our guest to her seat!” His father yelled.

He took a deep breath before turning around. The smile he forced on his face felt wrong, like he had to fight his own instincts to keep it in place.“Of course!” With every step he took towards them he forced his pride down. He and Darius worked too hard for him to blow it now. He took the time to level his temper and banish it to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to get emotional. He offered the woman his arm and tried to mask his repulsion. She was probably doing the same. “Your seat is right this way Senator!”

“Thank you.” She took his arm with a trained neutrality.

“There haven't been any calamities at the border as of late. We should consider ourselves fortunate.” he said not letting his grin falter.

The older woman raised an eyebrow. “Just because the enemy has yet to brandish their claws does not mean they are not there.”

“I doubt the enemy is planning anything that we can’t handle.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. The solstice is a time of change after all.” her guard was up. He could use that. 

As Livia sat down Claude pushed in her chair. The woman scratched the back of her neck. It was such a human gesture that Claude was startled by it. This whole endeavor he only ever thought of Livia as the enemy trying to kill him. An enigma. A monster. He completely erased the idea of her as a human, a person. With his plan finally coming into fruition, was he really prepared to do what he was about to do, to another person? It was one thing to test it on himself, he understood the consequences. He created them, but to inflict that kind of pain on an unwilling person... Mentally he slapped himself. His life wasn't the only one on the line. He glanced up to entrance, just in time to see his mother playfully slap his father as they chuckled over some unknown inside joke before going back to their duties. The smile he so carefully placed faded from his face. Livia never considered them people, just obstacles in the way of her quest for power. He wasn’t going to stoop to her level. He was nothing like her. At the end of her plan two people would be dead. At the end of his scheme everyone would be able to walk away unharmed. Now was not the time to rethink the whole thing. He saw her as a person and she saw him dead. He couldn't afford to be indecisive, when Livia had already made up her mind. 

The first course was starting. Most people were already at their seats. Zashir waved him over to the front table and patted the empty seat next to him. Claude excused himself from the senator and tried to compose himself as he made his way up to the front table. 

“Doesn’t the food look great! Everyone really outdid themselves this year.” Amelda said between heaping bites of roast pheasant.

“I saw you in the kitchen today, you weren’t being a burden were you?” His father teased. “Didn’t burn anything down this time did ya?”

Claude forced a smile back onto his face. He hated how it felt. “No Dad, I didn’t burn anything down, I’m not that bad a cook.”

“Good, then stop looking like you did and lighten up!”

Darius was sitting with his father farther down the long table before him. Both their eyes met and they exchanged nervous glances. Claude took a deep breath and decided to take solace in their shared unease. The younger boy winked at him. It filled the pit of his stomach with warmth and reassurance. They were going to make it through this. No matter what.

The wine started to flow and the merriment continued. Soon the only thing that could be heard was the clinking of silverware and idle conversation. His mother and Nader were arguing over the effectiveness of the pincer formation compared to a crane wing. The clock at the end of the hall showed that about fifteen minutes had passed. People started to clear their plates and the main course was going to be served. 

The King elbowed him in the gut. “Why don’t you make a toast, Claude. This can be your first public speech.”

Just as he anticipated. His father always gave a speech around the second course when people got comfortable. It was just the opening he needed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I've never given a toast before.”

Zashir waved his hand as if waving away his son’s concerns. “You've seen me do it before, it'll be fine. Just speak from the heart!”

“I hope it’ll be fine.” Claude muttered as he hesitantly stood up. There was no going back now. He hit his fork against the glass and cleared his throat. “Um. Hello.” Thousands of thoughts rushed his head as he looked out into the sea of faces. Doubt clogged his throat. _ This was a horrible idea, should’ve let Mom and Dad handle this, this isn’t going to work- _

Someone coughed at the long table. By instinct his eyes traced the sound to Darius. His friend nodded at him to keep going, it was just enough to snap him out of it. 

“Thank you all for joining us tonight to celebrate the coming solstice. I hope you’re all enjoying the food and the beginnings of tonight's festivities!” Cheers rang out across the hall. “As many of you know, I have recently been named successor, and as the next in line, I want to reach out my hand to all of you. I know that I’ve butted heads with many of you before on the senate floor.” there were a few disparate chuckles including from his mother. “But I know it’s our differences that make us stronger, and by working together we can make Almyra better than ever before!” Amid the cheers he hammered the final nail in the coffin.

“In the spirit of that goal I’d like to invite Senator Livia to dine next to me! I know we’ve had our differences but I’d like to bury the hatchet and let's start fresh in honor of the changing season!” His mother looked at him in confusion but clapped along with the others at the strange request.

Reluctant and suspicious Livia made her way to the head table. If the clock was right, then there were only 3 minutes before the laxatives kicked in he needed to be fast. Claude shook her hand with a smile and handed her a goblet. “A toast!” He said raising his own glass. “To Senator Livia, I know we’ve had our differences, but we both have the same goals. To do what is best for our people. To senator Livia!”

The sentiment echoed throughout the hall with the sounds of glasses meeting Claude turned to face Livia and clinked their glasses together. 

“Your difference in opinion will always be valued. Even if your opinion is that my mother and I should be dead by the end of the night. ” He gave her a smile and took a deep pull from his goblet. Deafening silence smothered the hall. To his right Nader choked on his food if it wasn’t for his violent coughing they could have heard a pin drop. All motion stopped and every eye at the table was on him.

“Son? What’s going on?” His father leaned closer.

His mother glared at the senator. “I would like to know as well.”

Livia had the good sense to look more shocked than furious but her bright eyes burned with indignation. “I assure you I don’t have a clue what you're talking about. Youth makes fools of many.”

“Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. A little Wyvern told me that after the announcement of my ascension you and several other senators left the party early. I don’t wanna give away too much of the details before you have the chance to come clean, but I know that you and some of your followers don’t think I’m fit to rule.”

“This is absurd, who would think such a thing?” 

“Funny you should ask, I think we should get our answer, just about-- Now.” he gestured towards the main table, twenty minutes precisely. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. It started as a low growl and slowly the sound grew louder. Several key senators looked less than comfortable in their seats trying to be discrete in their movements. 

“The day after your little murder planing party, you sent four... no five letters” he corrected himself as one senator desperately sprinted from the room. “Giving explicit directions to each of your co-conspirators. Like this one addressed to Senator Ester, telling him to prepare the horses for a quick escape. With a flourish he pulled a parchment from the folds of his jacket and handed it to his mother. “I was able to track down your fellow traitors by looking for your seal. Right now, everyone who is a part of your little scheme is experiencing some... internal distress. Honestly, they should all be running for the exits before they evacuate their bowels in front of everyone. It would really spoil the meal.”

Horror crossed the face of everyone in the hall. People turned to look at the people sitting near them trying to figure out who had been poisoned. Many of them focused on Senator Ester who was sweating with the effort of trying to control himself. 

“Go! Save your dignity, man!” shouted the person sitting next to the Senator. There was a green hue to his complexion as he sprinted to join the other conspirators.

His father’s face turned white as a sheet. “Claude, what have you done? What is the meaning of all this?”

Livia slammed her hands on the table in anger. “Are you blind Zahir! He’s obviously poisoned innocent people, you demonic child!” She pointed an accusing finger at Claude. “You vile evil-”

“Not innocent people Livia, you’re would be assassins.” He looked up unwavering to meet her looming gaze. “I already know your true motives. And now everyone else will too.” 

Livia’s eyes widened in realization. She fell backward into her chair. “What have you done to me!” She screeched. Other people started to spit out their food in fear of poison. No one else dare move to help her, morbidly transfixed on the scene before them.

“This,'' he said. Flourishing a small vial in front of her face. “Is a truth serum of my own design. Your symptoms will only worsen if you lie, the only way to alleviate it is by being honest.”

“Such a thing doesn’t exist! You lie!” She shouted. 

“Oh I’m not lying, Senator.” He uncapped the vial and took a swig.

“Claude!” Amelda grabbed his arm and snatched the vial away, but it was too late. 

“That’s why I’m going to be just fine.” Claude gently took his mother’s hand off of him. Giving her a small reassuring squeeze. He hoped he could apologize to her through his eyes, but he had to keep the charade up.

“You’re insane.” the senator hissed.

“And you’re stalling.” He stared at Livia dead in the eyes forcing amber to meet emerald.

Livia collapsed into her seat, her eyes shifted like a cornered animal. “Someone do something! This brat is trying to kill me!”

“Oh I’m not trying to kill you, I’m giving you the chance to confess. After all, the truth will set you free." 

“Don’t just sit there someone help me!”

“None of these people are going to help you. They want to see how this plays out just as much as I do. Don’t worry though, if you have nothing to hide then you have nothing to fear.” 

There was a hardened resolution in his opponent’s eyes. She wasn’t going down without a fight. 

“You’re starting to sweat Senator, that means you’ve already lied. Next your hands will start to shake and your heart rate will accelerate, then it will get progressively harder to breathe. All you have to do to stop it, is tell the truth.”

“How did you-”

“I coated the rim of your glass. You were contaminated by your first sip.” Claude held up the vessel for all to see. “I’m not sweating, so that was the truth. And no innocent people were poisoned only you and your co-conspirators. Now let’s start off easy. You sent those letters to your little friends giving them directions didn’t you?”

”I don't know what you're talking about.” She was trying so hard to seem unaffected. But as she said it her posture tensed. The timing was working out perfectly.

“Lie. Your hands have a tremor now. You’re trying to stabilize them on your lap.” He grabbed her arm and with more force than he liked, and wrenched her trembling hand into the air. “Just give in Livia,It will only get worse if you don’t.” He let go of her arm. “Your plan was to abduct my mother and I, during the sacred rites. You were going to use your magic and the cover of night to cause a distraction and that’s when the others would strike!”

“I would never disrupt the sacred rites.” Livia protested. Her eyes widened and she started to clutch at her chest, a look of mortal terror crossed her eyes. 

“Lie again.” he said. “Now your heart feels like it’s going to burst through your chest. You were going to take us to the border, you were going to let us go and shoot us in the back while we tried to escape”

“No I never-” Livia choked mid sentence and her hands flew to her throat visibly gasping for air. 

“Once we were dead, you were going to plant a letter on my mother's corpse!” He could barely contain the rage he harbored for weeks.

“I-” what was that look in her eyes? Was it fear? 

“You were trying to make it look like we were running to the border. Did you really think that people were going to buy that? Did you really think that people would believe that my mother and I would deflect to Fodlan, betray our country?”

“This-- isn't your- country-you-- half breed.”she hissed between ragged breaths. Her symptoms were starting to decline and realization emboldened her.

Calude’s blood began to boil. He wanted to scream, and cry at the woman before him, but there was less than a minute left, he had to finish this right. “You never wanted me or my mother in power, did you? You wanted to kill us tonight!”

“Yes! The sound was barely a word as she gasped for air to fill her lungs. “Yes! I want you dead! You and that bitch! You shouldn’t even exist, you half breed disgrace!” The color was returning to her face as her breathing evened. “The cowardice that runs in your blood will doom us all if I don't interfere! You are incapable of fully understanding my land, my people, my culture! So why should I entrust Almyra to scum like you! Yes! I made a plan and by the gods I will see it through!” 

Livia seized him by the throat crashing them both into the floor. Claude gasped for air. Livia pressed down hard on his throat, dark magic started to gather in her free hand. Claude wrenched himself free and rolled out of the way just as the Senator’s fist made a crater in the floor right where his head was. Amelda tackled Livia to the ground and tried to restrain her hands. Nader and Zashir ran to evacuate people from the great hall shouting and directing people left and right. Livia sent Amelda flying with a fiery blast and Amelda landed across the hall and crumbled into a wall. 

“MOM!” Claude’s scream ripped through his body. She wasn’t moving and a river of blood rushed down her head. His legs felt like lead as he scrambled across overturned chairs and shrapnel to go to her. “Mom!” 

Livia’s form towered over him.“I’ll rid the world of you once and for all, demon!” She shrieked. Claude turned just in time to see Livia’s summon forth a giant meteor that crashed through the ceiling. He grabbed his mother and used all of his strength to shove her out of the impact zone. There was a shower of glass and timber. Debris and plaster cut against his skin as it fell from the sky. His ears were ringing and he fought against the dull buzzing that clouded his mind. There was a voice that kept repeating itself, becoming more and more distinct amid the dust.

“Claude! Amelda! Where are you!” 

“Darius! Over here! Help Mom, please she’s not moving.” His voice was shaking. Everything he was trying to avoid for months was burning in reality before his eyes. 

Darius sprinted to him through the dust, he had a healing kit under one arm and two of the training swords under the other.“Claude! I grabbed everything I could when I saw the ceiling go down -”

“Take Mom to a healer and get out of here!” Claude yelled. 

Darius shoved a practice sword into his hands. “I’m not leaving you alone, the fight’s not over yet.” He uncapped a vulnerary with his teeth and poured it into the queen’s mouth. “I’ll take care of her, just don’t let your guard down!”

“You should listen to your friend!” A beam of dark light pierced his shoulder, searing pain down to his bone. The fabric and skin fused together under the intense influence of the spell. The dust was beginning to settle. Livia’s looming silhouette was glowing with her magic.

"GO!" He yelled back at Darius. Claude readied the sword in his hands. His shoulder screamed at every motion. He raised the sword above his head and with a scream he rushed toward the woman. 

Livia readied a spell circle and let fly another beam, Claude brought down his sword on her rib cage. She cursed but the proximity let her land another fire spell to his arm. 

“Why are you doing this?” He pleaded. ‘What is there to gain by letting your hatred drive you?” his arms screamed in agony as he tried to land another blow. “We just want to live our lives, so why? Why do you hate us!”. It was hard to tell if the tears streaming down his face were from the pain of his body or heart.

“This is my country just as much as it is yours. Even more so because I have to fight for my right to be here every day of my life!” He lashed out another blow, this time Livia dodged the hasty attack and set his wooden sword ablaze. Claude was forced to drop his only weapon as the fire consumed the flesh of his hands. Livia landed a swift kick to his stomach forcing the air from his lungs. He crumpled to the ground in a heap of smoke and blood. He put weight on his arms trying to get up before realizing his mistake and crumpling back down on the ground. He could hear someone in the distance scream his name. Livia grabbed him by the throat and forced his broken body up so high his feet couldn't find ground beneath them. Desperately Claude tried to wrench her fingers free, scratching and pulling as his body burned for air.

“I do this for the sake of my country. I will not allow it to fall to ruin as you infect it with your kin.” her grasped tightened and darkness swarmed into his vision.

“PUT HIM DOWN!” Darius screamed. He had the other training sword in his hands leveled to strike. Livia set her sights on Darius raising her other hand to start another spell circle. 

_ Not Darius. Not Darius. _Claude fumbled until he found the dagger in his belt. Quickly he unsheathed it and stabbed her in the arm forcing Livia to drop him and her attack on Darius. He rushed to where he saw his sword fall and with all his might, without hesitation he aimed for her head. As the blow connected he felt a rush of power surge through his veins, electrifying his existence. There was a glow of bright pure light, for a moment it formed the shape of a crescent moon before him before fading from existence. He blinked the light from his eyes and saw Livia on the ground coughing up blood. 

“No no no no no.” he rushed to her side. _ Maybe Darius brought another vulnerary maybe he could heal her. Stop the bleeding. _

She was laughing. It was a wretched noise as the effort ripped through her lungs and raked through her broken form, but she kept laughing. She turned her head to look him in the eyes. “In my dying moments, I finally have proof. You are the demon I knew you to be.” Her breathing was turning much more shallow. Her life was escaping through every wound in her body yet she persisted through pained words and labored breaths. “As much as you say you are one of us, your blood betrays your true nature.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You can never hide it now. No matter how much you try.” Livia’s eyes started to flutter closed, her mind slipping into the hands of the gods.

With the last of her strength grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, with her dying breath she whispered into his ear. “You will always be an outsider.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claude can't swim lol. Ignore how traumatized he is.  
influences for this chapter are the celebration that Claude mentions in his supports with Annette, and most importantly his fixation on being an outsider throughout the game. I figure the root of that fixation would have to be SOMETHING significant from before he got to the academy since he already had that baggage when meeting him.
> 
> Next chapter: When Worlds Collide  
Claude is left with more questions than answers. He doesn't understand why, but he can't shake the feeling of two worlds colliding in his existence.
> 
> I'm not gonna lie this one's probs gonna take another month, but at least I'm getting consistent.


	6. When Worlds Collide: Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This poor boy never gets a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So during the process of writing this chapter I found out that CLAUDE'S REAL NAME IS KHALID AND ITS SORTA CANNON? Like, when it first came out I thought it was just a really cool head cannon and left it at that since I finished VW and I MARRIED HIM, yet I somehow missed that critical piece of information during my extensive research. So now I'm thinking of either rewriting this whole fic to correct his name, or just making another version of this fic with the name fixed. I'm leaned towards the latter since then I can fix the plot holes that this creates and I know from other fandoms that if there's differences in the name or spelling some people have very strong options on what name they like more thus giving people a choice. Either way I gotta do something. Sound off in the comments if you have strong opinions on the matter.

Nothing. Claude felt nothing when help came. When his father hugged him to his chest. Nothing as they took away the body. He just took a life and he hated every part of it. The smell of blood and smoke that clung to the air, the way he could feel her body breaking beneath his blows. Worst of all he saw how the light left her eyes, her burning hatred for him extinguished from reality.

What was it like for her? Was the last thing she felt was anger, or was her hatred a mask for her fear? Would the power of her loathing come to haunt him after her death like the furies in the old tales? The dying sentiments personified threatening to enact justice upon him. Normally he thought that grudges were stupid petty things for the dead to have, but now on the receiving end of such powerful rage he finally understood how threatening they were. He and Livia were intertwined now, the end of her life seared bone-deep into what should have been the beginning of his. Would she have felt the same remorse if she killed him? The thought made Claude chuckle bitterly. It didn't matter anymore. She would never get the chance to try again. He took that from her. He felt like he was going to throw up. Must’ve looked it too, as his father ordered him to sit down and rest. Claude was inclined to listen to him.

Livia's last words reverberated in his soul. At his core he knew they were true, he just didn't want to admit it; he was an outsider. She said his blood betrayed his true nature, and at this point he didn’t think that she was being hypothetical. In the moments before the blinding moon, he felt the power surging through his veins before manifesting. That wasn’t natural. Maybe he really was a demon like everyone said. As much as he fought against it he couldn’t change how others saw him, how they treated him. Nothing could ever—

“Claude.” The voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. Darius walked over to him with a vulnerary, nervously fussing with the cork stopper. “I was looking for you... I—” he stopped to gather his thoughts. “Thanks for saving me back there I don't wanna think of what would’ve happened if you weren't there,” he laughed nervously.

“I don’t wanna think of what I would’ve done if something happened to you,” Claude insisted. “You would have done the same for me.” 

Darius sat down next to him. “I’d like to think that’s true, but that doesn't change the fact that you saved my life today.”

Darius uncorked the vulnerary and swirled the contents in it’s jar before taking a tentative sip “Oh, I grabbed this for you but I guess you beat me to the chase again.” Darius flinched as the magic knit some his cuts .

“Hey there, save some for me. I'm the one who did all the heavy lifting.”

“Claude, you know that too much vulnerary will only make you sicker. You’re already healed up.” 

For the first time Claude looked at his arms. He shouldn’t be able to move them, but through the burned fabric he could see his skin. A slightly pinkish tinge was the only evidence that anything had happened to him. He tentatively turned over his palms and tested his hands. They felt a little raw but it was nothing compared to the searing pain that he should have been in. Even the smell of burning flesh was erased without a trace. 

Is this what Livia meant by the proof being in his blood? He remembered feeling a concentration of power in his arms in the very places that seemed healed. Did the surge of power hasten his body's natural healing process? If this had anything to do with the power he felt, there was only one person he could turn to for answers. “Where’s my mom?” 

“She’s over there, getting patched up.” Darius pointed. “I think your father was gonna help her to her room so she can properly rest up.”

Claude hurried to the door where he saw his father helping his mother up to their quarters. “Hey Dad, I got this, you go back and help out.”

Zahir tightened his grip on his wife’s arm. “Claude I--”

“Go my love.” Amelda grimaced as she moved to stand on her own. “The people need you right now. Go do your job.” 

The King gave his family a reluctant look over his shoulder as he left, just as he did, Amelda collapsed onto Claude. He put her arm over his shoulder and braced himself for her weight.

“I assume you want to talk.” she said, as they slowly ascended the stairs. 

“Was I that obvious?”

“No. But you’ve just been through a lot. It’s hard. Taking a life for the first time, I’d be more worried if you didn’t keep yapping away like normal.”

Claude’s expression darkened. “Livia said something to me that’s got me thinking--”

“Don't listen to her. There's nothing she can do to hurt you now.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.” He grimaced as he shifted his mother onto her bed. “She said the proof of my true nature is in my blood. I think that she meant this.” he traces the symbol into her palms. While I was fighting, I thought I was going to die. She burned most of the skin off my hands.” 

Amelda reached out to hold his hands, looking them over and running the pads of her thumbs over lines of his palms. Claude leaned into her shoulder and overturned one of her worried hands. “Then I felt this rush of power and this light appeared.” he started to trace the general lunar shape he remembered. “And now suddenly I’m healed. It just kinda happened. I felt this surge of energy running through my veins and it shot through my hands and it was a flash of light then-- I don’t know- it all happened so fast...

Amelda gingerly took her son’s hand and traced an outline on his palm. “Are you absolutely sure it looked like this?” she asked. Her deft hand created an exact replica on his skin, putting his rendition to shame.

“Yeah exactly like that.” 

Claude couldn't read his mother's face. Pain, joy, fear. She sighed from her soul and squeezed his hand tight to her chest. 

I was worried about this, with your father's blood, I didn't think it was possible. She said folding his hand into hers “It’s a crest. Passed down in our family's bloodline.” 

“Our family? The one you left behind in the Alliance?”

“The very same.” She looked down on him somberly. “Crests are passed down through the bloodlines of certain families, a gift from the goddess of Fodlan to her chosen ten elites,” 

She took his hand again to draw symbols on it. The foreign twists and turns left pale impressions on his palms as she recited the names that went with each symbol. “They were Blayddid, Lamine, Daphnel, Dominic, Gautier, Fraldarius, Gloucester, Charon, Maurice, and Goneril. Each crest gives its bearer unique power: our families’ is the ability to heal. That’s what saved you.”

“What about our family, which one is ours?” she paused as she retraced the crescent moon symbol, her face and tone somber. “Our family descended from the hero Riegan. “

“Riegan? The ruling head of the Alliance?” He started laughing. The strain of everything must finally be taking a toll on him. He must be hearing things. “Very funny Mom, but that would mean—” 

“I’m afraid I’m not joking.”

The universe decided to pull the rug out from underneath him. Claude felt like he was drowning in a sea of unknowns where seconds ago he had solid reality to stand on.

“Why, why didn't you tell me?” 

“I didn't think you would have one. Crests are incredibly rare and since your father is full Almyran I thought…”

“But even if there was a possibility why wouldn't you tell me! About crests about my lineage ,why did you want me to grow up in the dark like this only half knowing what I am?

I wanted you to grow up deciding for yourself who you are, not relying on your lineage or potential power that you might not even have. Crests wield enormous power and enormous consequences the goddess does not give with both hands. In the same vein that power has been used against our own people during our battles with Fodlan. I didn’t want there to be another thing different about you.You were already demonized as it is—I didn't want you to worry about the mark of the enemy in your blood.

“I—” he started. “These crests...only the people of Fodlan have them?” 

His mother nodded to him. “Only the people of Fodlan were blessed by the goddess.”

Claude couldn't help but let out a pained dry laugh. “So that’s what she meant,” he muttered softly. “So I really am an outsider and nothing I do can change that. It’s literally in my blood.”

Amelda grabbed him by the shoulders. “Look at me,” she demanded. Claude lifted his head until his eyes met hers, her emerald irises, so much like his own, used to bring him comfort;now when he looked into them, he saw only a reflection of what everyone else feared in his.

“Claude, you are what you make yourself. No one else can determine that for you. The only one who gets to decide what you are is you.” Her hand moved to his cheek, wiping away a tear he had not realized had fallen. “You exist between two separate cultures, and that gives you a perspective that few others could ever understand. Not even your father or I understand. You’re the only one who gets to see life this way. Don't you dare waste it. No one is allowed to tell you who you are or who you are allowed to be.”

In one moment his brain was swimming with information and the next it was nothing but a blank canvas. It made him want to scream. “I don’t even know what to say. Yesterday my world expanded to new horizons and now its all crashing around me. You keep saying that I have a unique perspective but I don't know anything beyond the borders. How am I supposed to use my understanding of the world to help people when I don’t even understand myself?”

Amelda held her son to her chest. “It’s never too late to learn. You can go there, across the mountains and learn about yourself.”

Claude chuckled to himself as he allowed himself to find comfort in his mother's embrace.“The heir to the Almyran throne just walking through the front door of Fodlan’s locket.”

“It’s not impossible. Technically, you’re a noble there, maybe they’ll throw a welcome party.” Amelda teased. The joy was returning to her voice.

“I don’t think I could manage another title, I barely made it out alive with the one I already got.” He laughed. “I don’t even wanna think about it.” He said slowly, pulling himself up. “I think I just need to sleep.” 

“Of course. Take your time we can talk about that later.” She kissed the top of his head. “I just want you to know that what you did tonight-- you saved us both. I’m proud of you, son.”

A swell of emotions warmed his chest. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He needs a damn nap, I don't even know how hes functioning at this point. 
> 
> Next Chapter: When Worlds Collide Pt.2  
I'm giving myself till the end of the week to polish this up and post it. shout out to those of you who have followed this fic despite my posting schedule you're the real motivation for me to get better!


	7. When Worlds Collide: Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Shoutout to Vandraren, your comments really motivate me to keep up a high standard for myself!  
This chapter has a whole lot going on in it so I hope you all enjoy!

That night sleep did not find him; he stumbled around the path of unconsciousness until Livia's lifeless eyes jolted him awake. The succeeding night was more of the same. He lost time in his room, a cell of his own creation. Livia’s specter haunting his vision, while he was going over the notes he had taken when he was concocting his poison. There was nothing else he could have done. No other scheme that he could come up with even in retrospect, that could have kept her alive. Livia was in life as she was in death, a loose javelin. And why did she even matter? Why did he try so hard to spare her life in the first place? Why was he trying so hard to spare her in his mind? Was it easier to focus on the pain instead of the truth his mother forced upon him?

There was a timid knock at the door. “Claude. It’s been two days, are you alright in there?”

Claude wrapped himself tighter in his blankets and said nothing. He could see the shadow of Darius’s feet in the sliver of light under the door. 

“I wanted to give you some space but this is getting ridiculous.Nader said you’ve been skipping training, and your father says you haven’t eaten...we’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you.” he admission tumbled clumsily from Darius' mouth. 

There was a clinking sound outside of the door. “I brought ya some food. I know ya might not wanna talk, but you might as well eat.” Darius sighed he muttered so quietly Claude almost missed his parting words.. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The boy’s footsteps echoed in the empty halls. Claude cracked the door open to the sight of a small feast of pastries and meats, crowded onto a tray. His parents must have been really worried.

Claude took a deep breath to gather himself. He shed his blanket armor before opening the door fully. The truth was he was longing for company. The weight of his burdens were beginning to become unbearable. “Darius?”

The boy in question turned around a look of relief on his face. “Yes, my friend?”

“You really can’t expect me to eat this by myself right?” 

Darius beamed at him as he silently helped his friend gather up the dishes and bring them into his room.

Claude closed the door behind him and set the bounty on the floor between them, sharing the silverware as they dug into the massive amount of food. 

“So, how are ya holding up in here?” Darius asked through mouthfuls of pheasant.

“About as well as you'd think. I took a life. I feel like shit and I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes I see her face.” Claude tried to hide his bitterness, but to no avail. “If that wasn’t enough, I can’t stop thinking about what I learned of my family. If even a fraction of it’s true then…” He stopped before collecting himself. He didn’t want to spiral out of control in front of Darius. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve proven myself in battle, stopped an assignation attempt, and I finally have answers I've been waiting for my whole life-yet I have no relief, I have no closure, I just have questions.”

“Look, I can’t begin to imagine what could possibly be going through your head right now. I’m not you. But I can help you talk it out if you want.”

“Darius, I don’t know. The things I’ve learned, it just- changes everything.” Claude started to retreat into himself.

The younger boy gave him a worried glance. “What's got you so conflicted?”

Claude sighed and shoved the tray towards Darius. His appetite abandoned him again.“My mother offered me the chance to go to Fodlan. To learn about the other side of my family.”

Darius moved closer to his friend trying to meet his eyes.“But why would you do that? They’ve never mattered to you before.”

“But shouldn’t they?” Claude snapped. “All my life I've been ridiculed and hated for something I’ve no control over shouldn’t I at least try to understand why? I have the chance to learn about who my mother was, how they live over there. What if I could learn more about the missing pieces of myself?”

Darius placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. “ I know you want answers, but you’re the heir to the throne. You can’t just up and leave your duties here.”

“You think I don’t know that!” Claude barked. Seeing his friend recoil made him bite back his words. “Sorry, its just- I've been thinking the same thing non-stop trying to weigh each option. It’s just that- “ He hesitated trying to articulate everything that had thought and felt over the past days. “What if everything we know about Fodlan is wrong? I can learn everything there is to know about them, gain a new perspective- and tear down the walls between us! What if all of this hatred has been over nothing, don't we all deserve to be understood?” 

Darius shrugged. “I guess that could be true. But you would need a massive amount of power to do something like that. You would need to be a King to break boundaries or to bring change, shouldn’t you stay here to do that? You have no power over there. They won’t care if your mother was from there, or if your heir apparent here. They’ll just see you as some misplaced Almyran child.” 

Claude stopped himself. Part of him wanted to just confide everything in Darius and to let someone else share in his burden. He bit his lip in hesitation. “Darius, the things I am about to tell you cannot leave this room, you need to promise me that. Swear it.”

Darius looked confused but put his hand over his heart. “You’re worrying me, but I swear on my mother's grave. I won’t tell a soul.”

Claude felt a wave of relief wash over him.“If I go to the Alliance, I won't just be another lost child.”

“Well, ya can’t just fly over the mountain range on a snowy wyvern with the Almyran standard billowing behind you.”

“Of course not, nothing like that. Although that would be pretty flashy.” He mused. “Do you remember when we were fighting Livia and there was that flash of light?” 

“Yeah, I thought the gods were coming to take me for a second there.” Darius joked.

“Her last words to me were that my blood revealed my true nature. That flash of light, it came from me.”

Darius shrugged him off easily.“That's completely impossible you suck wyvern dung at magic.” 

“That's the thing, It wasn’t magic, it was a crest. I asked my mother about it, apparently it's something I inherited from her, it's proof of her blood line in me. It's the reason that I healed so quickly and they’re only found in Fodlan, that's what Livia meant.”

Darius raised an eyebrow. “So the people of Fodlan are just gonna let you run the place because you can light up like a firefly? That’s absolutely stupid.” 

“Stupid as it might be, apparently they’re really rare there ,and only the nobility have them, with what my mother told me, I have a legitimate claim to the Riegan family!”

Darius jumped back from Claude as if electrified. “R-riegan? Like the von Riegan family, head of the Alliance?” 

“The very same! But you’re missing the bigger picture! If I went to them, I could learn how to wield this power so that I can use it for the better! If I can learn more about my grandfather or my uncle, if I play my cards right-I could have the full power of house Riegan to help me fulfill my dream!” Claude was so caught up in the rush of his own thoughts that he didn’t notice how quite his friend was. “Darius I could help foster understanding between our two nations. Wouldn’t that be worth it?”

Darius’ complexion drained of its warm golden color. He pulled his legs up to his chest, his amber eyes not meeting Claude’s. When he spoke it was barely a whisper. “So you want to go there. Leave all of us behind to join the family that killed my mother.”

The realization hit him too late. “Darius, no I totally forgot- I didn’t mean it like that-” He stumbled.

“You forgot?” Darius glared at him as if daring Claude to repeat himself. “How could you forget the war that caused our people so much suffering? How could you forget the war that ruined my family?” 

“That's not what-”

“Your ‘uncle’ Is the one that cut her down! Gods, that means Amelda knew the whole time! Everything that she ever did for me, for my father. It wasn’t out of sympathy, it was regret!” The pain and betrayal swirled behind his eyes scratching away at the surface of his inner turmoil.

“Darius, I'm sorry, I don’t even know the man. how was I-”

“But you want to.” He spat. “I can see it in your eyes.” Darius laughed, a dry humorless laugh. “There are a lot of things that you can do Claude. But ya can’t lie to me.” 

“Darius, I’m so sorry with everything that's been going on-"

“It's all starting to make sense now.” the younger boy sighed bitterly. “Ya know, when we started this whole thing, I thought I saw something changing in you. The plotting, the scheming...you just seemed so in your element. You really had me going there for a bit. I thought that you were trying to avoid letting her slip through your fingers but in the end you just wanted to torture Livia instead of facing her head on. Like a coward.” 

The accusation hit Claude so hard it felt like a strike to the chest almost knocking him backward. For those biting words to come out of Darius’ mouth- “Torture her? I wanted her to live! You’re the one who wanted to give her the death sentence!“

“At least that’s honest and direct!” Darius cried. “She would understand what was happening to her then!”

“What happened to her, what about what could have happened to me!” Are you forgetting she was trying to kill me and my mother!” Claude yelled. “Everything I did, I did it to give her a chance! She struck first! She tried to kill me!”

“And a sick part of me understands her! You broke her Claude. You caged her like a wild animal and you broke her. It was horrifying to watch. I almost didn't recognize you, the way you just let her suffer like that!”

“I tested out that potion on myself. I knew exactly what she was going through, I knew she wasn’t going to get hurt. I didn't do anything to her that I was willing to do to myself. That's how far I was willing to go.

“Isn't that worse?” Darius pleaded. “Why would you do that to yourself, Claude, why would you be willing to hurt yourself like that? “Darius took a shuddering breath. “The worst part was, it looked like you enjoyed it. The way you were so calm through the whole thing. The way you could just smile through it like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Darius, that was all an act.”

“Was it? Was it really? Your eyes were clear. They shined like I've never seen before Claude, it was like your true colors were finally showing themselves. Or maybe I was stupid enough not to notice before.”

“You know me better than that.” Claude pleaded. He begged that his soul could stain his words, a miasma of his conviction reaching out to Darius, to try and prove to him that he hadn’t changed, that he was still his friend. 

“Your right, I do. I know you better than anyone. That's why I know now. I can see it clear as day.” Darius clenched his fists. “You're exactly what they all say you are. You really are the green-eyed demon.” The words cut through Claude like glass on skin.

“Darius-” Claude reached out to touch Darius’ shoulder. Grasping at the last straws of friendship he had left.

Darius threw him off and started for the door. “Get away from me!” Disgust bled into each syllable. “You know what. Go, go and get your fucking ambitions Claude, go off with your fucking uncle and have a grand old time. At least then you’ll be where you belong, a snake among snakes. You can talk about tearing down boundaries as much as you like, but I’ll know why you're really doing this. You're just running away from your problems like you always do.” 

“You used to be the only one who truly understood me, so why can’t you see that nothing’s changed? I haven’t changed! Why can’t you see...” 

“You save my life, so I’ll keep your fucking secret. But that's the only reason. I don’t want to owe a traitor anything.” Darius stood up and opened the door. “Don’t ever speak to me again.”

Darius slammed the door and without him, Claude was left engulfed in darkness again. He stayed there unable to move. He sat there feeling more alone than in his entire life. Darius, his only friend, was always there for him. Now he was truly alone. In such a short amount of time and everything changed. Maybe this was a warning. Maybe this was fate warning him against his dream. Maybe this is just what happened when worlds collided and he was left in the destruction of the walls he desperately wanted to bring down. 

Was he turning into a monster? No, that was just his doubts speaking. It couldn't be true..Darius really did know him better than anyone else. No one else would have been able to weaponize his own fears against him so effectively. Claude blinked back tears as he tried to remind himself that nothing Darius said was true, but doubts crept into his mind. Would it have been more honest to just turn Livia in from the beginning? No. He stopped himself. He didn’t have enough proof she would have just changed her plans. Darius wasn’t trying to argue him he was just lashing out. He didn’t enjoy hurting Livia, but Darius didn’t see it that way, and no amount of logic would change that. Darius was just afraid of what Claude might become, of what he didn’t know. That's what it boiled down to. Fear of the unknown. If Darius could give into such hatred, was there really anything that he could do to make others understand? he used to think that Darius was the exception to the rule, his only hope that others might let go of their prejudices but now he knew that anyone could give in to their own deep seeded malice, even those he thought he could trust. If there was no hope left in Almyra, maybe there was still hope for the world beyond the borders. In order to change everyone else's mind he needs to inform his perspective.

Finally, taking a breath he tested out his legs and found that he had the strength to stand on his own. 

His mother and father were already caught up in their worried whispers when he found them in the hallway. 

“Claude. We were just coming to check on you.” His father sounded as if he was talking to glass.. “It’s nice to see you up and about again.”

“Did Darius leave?” he muttered.

His parents shared a nervous glance. “He stormed off a few minutes ago. Is everything alright?” Zahir asked.

Claude rubbed at his tear swollen eyes. He’d had shed enough tears in the past moon to last him a life time. “I told him everything, and he rejected me. I thought I could trust him. I thought he would understand.”

Amelda put a hand on his shoulder and started to steer him to the kitchens. “Let’s sit down for a minute, we can talk this out over a nice cup of tea and some sweets.”

“I’m not really hungry. This isn’t the sort of thing you can just fix with food.”

Zahir grinned, following after them. “There’s no such thing as a problem you can’t fix with food.”

Before he could blink he was sat down at the table with a warm cup of chamomile in his hands and both of his parents undivided attention it was the first time they were all together since the incident. 

“So what happened. What did you tell him.” His mother prodded.

“I told him everything. I told him about how you said I could go to Fodlan to learn about myself and this power. But the moment I told him about my bloodline-- he really let me have it.”

Amelda’s expression darkened. “It’s not your fault.” she insisted. 

“This time it was. I was just so caught up in my own head that I didn’t even think about him or what he’s been through. What kind of person does that make me? Darius felt mad and shocked and angry and he lashed out at me as if I was the one who killed his mother, because in that moment that's all he saw. My damned bloodline. I’m tired of being burdened for everything that Fodlan represents. I can’t live like this anymore.” He took a moment to steel himself before his next words. “ I have to go to the Alliance.”

“Son, as much as I’m happy to see you thinking for yourself, are you sure that you're in the right state of mind to make this decision?” his father questioned.

“This is the clearest my mind has been in days. Just saying it out loud I'm certain this is what I want. He felt relief in his words for the first time in a long time he wasn’t second guessing himself and he was sure that this is what he needed to do. 

“Claude, this isn't just something you can do on impulse.” Zahir protested.

“What impulse? I've been thinking about this for the past two days. And just today it's been proven to me that there's nothing I can do here. Darius proved as much to me. I can’t make the change I want if I only have half the picture. How am I supposed to foster understanding, when I don’t even understand myself?”

His parents looked torn over his sudden announcement. Acceptance seemed to grow on his mother faster than his father. “How long do you plan on being gone?” His father asked. 

“As long as it takes.”

His mother took her husband and son’s hands in each of her own. “If you’re totally sure that this is what you want, then we will support you, but have you considered the long term effects of this? Making up an excuse for our successor to be away for so long might be suspicious.”

“Then renounce me!”

“What? No." His father sputtered. "I chose you for a reason, and you can’t just abandon such heavy responsibilities like that.” 

“The kid has a point though.” his mother conceded. 

“I’m not running away from the mess I’ve caused here, I just need to withdraw for now until I can learn all that I can. You can kill two birds with one stone if you renounce me then you can name Nader successor, then no one will care about what happens to me! If anyone is really curious you can tell then that I’m off seeking absolution for murder, or that I’m becoming a monk or something. Not that anyone will ask. When I come back, then you can see if I can still bring the change that you want me to. Then you can reinstate me or I can just challenge whoever you’ve chosen for the rite of succession. Either way I can’t come back until I’m stronger. Until I can finally use my other bloodline to change Almyra for the better.”

“You’re actually serious about this.” 

Claude managed a small smile. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

His father gave him a hesitant look.“I can’t say that I’m excited about you leaving the country, as your father, I have a lot of concerns.”

“We can’t stop him Zahir. If he thinks that this is the best way for him to do that then we can’t stop him.” Amelda reasoned. 

“I know you're right my love. But especially considering your family’s unique position.” he argued.

Their eyes spoke without words a silent argument before Amelda finally spoke. “If you go there then your father and I have some conditions.”

“Of course you do.” Claude sighed in relief. 

“First of all.” she continued. “You keep in touch with us, monthly correspondence minimum. Second, you don't tell people about your father and I. They don’t need to know where I am, best not give them another reason to invade, and third.” She stopped for a moment. The hypothetical nature of the situation faded from her eyes as realization that she would be losing her son settled in the frown on her lips. “Promise that you won’t let them change you.”

Claude met her gravity with determination. “I promise.”

“That’s my boy!” Zahir clapped him on the back. “Let's get you packed.”

They threw some rations together into a leather pouch, enough to last at least two days and then some, a little extra in case something happened. He chose one of the older wyverns from the stalls, one that was capable of making the return trip without a rider. They filled the saddle bags with wyvern food, maps, a pack of clothes and other bare essentials. His mother handed him a notebook and a small package.

“It’s all I could do on such short notice, but this should still be useful to you. It’s a list of things that you need to know before you get to the Alliance and instructions if you decide to get involved with the family business. Keep this package on your person and do not lose it. It’s enough to keep you in door of the Riegan estate and your crest should get you the rest of the way, now if anyone asks--”

“You're living in a world other than the one you grew up in and you have no desire to return.” he said checking the stirrup leathers on the saddle. 

“Oh, I should probably take these out.” Claude said fussing with his earring. “I doubt they wear them much in Derdriu, and since you're renouncing me anyway--” His father stopped him before he could take the gold bead from his braid.

“No, keep it. It will remind you what you're working towards. Since you’ll be alone it might help to keep a bit of home close at hand.” His father fastened the earring pack into his ear. Zahir beamed down at his son and engulfed him in a bone crushing embrace. “I’m proud of you son.”

“I know, Dad.”

As soon as they let go Amelda pulled him into her arms. “We’ll miss you.” she whispered. 

“You were brave enough to leave behind everything you knew. It's time I did too.” Claude kissed his mother on the cheek, and climbed into the saddle. As he kicked off took a last look at the house he grew up in, his parents fading into the distance. His heart felt like it was tearing in two. Better for him to leave part of himself here. He thought to himself. Underneath him he could see the deserts that were once his whole world. He rose with the moon over the horizon, and with every moment that passed he was expanding his world, soaring past the boundaries he once knew.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY WE OFF TO FODLAN!  
I'M SO EXCITED 
> 
> Next chapter: Grasping the Throat.  
Over the desert and through the woods to Grandfather's house we go


	8. Grasping the Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE GO TO THE NEXT CHAPTER THIS ONE IS NOW UNDER REVISION

UNDER REVISION REVISED CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED JANUARY 2021 SEE CHAPTER 9 FOR DETAILS AND ARTWORK


	9. IMPORTANT UPDATE  FOR PART 2 AND ART

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TLDR AND ART AT THE BOTTOM

Hi everyone, I know I haven’t updated in awhile and that’s not super unusual for me, 

however this time I’m officially going on hiatus until **January 30th 2021**, this is because of several new developments in my life, the first and most important is that I’m moving to Japan!

This has been a long time in the process, I actually started writing this fic at around the same time I started my application for my new job in Japan and I think that this has heavily influenced my writing, giving it a layer of authenticity I don’t think I would have achieved otherwise. especially chapter 7. Just as Claude was contemplating leaving his home, I began the process of contemplating whether it was time for me to leave mine. 

Part of the reason I haven't updated in the past few months is because of all the preparations I’ve needed to make and spending the few treasured months before departure with my family. 

It feels as if my life is taking a parallel journey to Claude’s right now, and I want to be able to use my writing as a way for me to process my experiences in a productive way that I can share with other people and as inspiration for the next few chapters (two of which are written but not to my satisfaction.)

I’m not abandoning this fic by any means, this is the first time I’ve ever felt confidence in my writing skills. I feel a rush of joy and motivation every time someone leaves me a review or complements my work. I actually feel proud of this, and I’m going to keep writing. So there are three things to keep in mind.

  1. I am rewriting chapter 8 (most likely on the 14 hour plane ride/ 14 day quarantine) When it is rewritten, I will delete it and replace chapter 8 with an authors note saying it’s the updated version. It’s going to be more focused on the journey and less on throwing Claude immediately into Fodlan.
  2. I will post chapter 9 by the last week of January. I’ve already got the meat of it. Several Golden deer fawns will be making an appearance in chapter 9, get hyped. 
  3. I have a lovely BETA RuthieToothie who’s helped me figure out a lot of story elements so I will be posting chapters much faster, and with consistency so that my break between chapters is shorter. After this transitional part of the story the ball is going to start rolling pretty fast.
  4. I really want to thank everyone who has made it this far. Thank you for reading each chapter of Claude’s story and staying with me through mine.
  5. I hope you stick with me and I’ll see you guys in January.

Didn't want you guys to leave empty handed so I drew this for y'all


End file.
